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So my favorite, and only, aunt has had the same partner for as long as I've been aware of her. She lives half a country away, so I rarely see her, but she's had a big influence on my life. Her partner has been even more distant, hesitant to venture into the deep south to see her partner's family, for reasons you can guess. Still, she visited us a couple of times.
So on one visit I found a copy of "Catcher in the Rye" and one of "Sidhartha" in my room, and new my aunt had left them. I read both of them, moved and surprised, since these were non-Christian and non-didactic works that I'd never been allowed to read before. It changed my views of the literature, and eventually opened a different world to me. Sounds corny, but growing up in deep south Mississippi, I had always been limited in what I saw and experienced, and in personal ways, these books showed me a world I had knew existed but had never encountered before. They made me feel less alone. I loved my aunt intensely for those books.
I'm 43 now, and recently I saw my aunt and her partner again, for the first time in decades without a funeral as an excuse. While talking and catching up, my aunt's partner casually asked "Do you happen to remember when I left those books for you when you were a teenager?" It had been her. All these years I loved the wrong aunt. Well, I loved them both, but never realized... You know what I mean.
My aunt left her home in her teens to join a convent, unable to live with her own family. At some point she left the convent and joined the Army, so I went from seeing her in a habit to an Army uniform. In her life she's been a nun, an Army officer, a nurse, a college professor, a Red Cross volunteer in times of emergency. Finally, recently, the country she has served has allowed her to be a spouse. Although thanks to Prop 8, she may not get to keep that title. Our country will take what you are willing to give, apparently, but won't always give what you really want most to have.
Congratulations, Aunts, to both of you.
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