I had my first girlfriend in seventh grade. My mom never really said much of anything. I had another two in high school. She shook her head. I didn’t get it. How could my parents seemingly not care?
I then found out my parents’ best friend, Jim, who was also my piano teacher and someone I loved dearly, was gay. No wonder it was no big deal to my parents. But I found out, it was not the same for Jim.
He was in his early forties, and his mother still would not accept him as he was. When he died about five years ago, his mother still could not cope with the fact that her grown son was gay.
My parents supported me without saying a word. I was lucky.

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