On gay marriage: there are no giant differences between us other than the ones we make.

In the parking lot, Bob, his partner of 26 years, said goodbye to a photograph. It was a photograph of he and Kenneth on vacation celebrating their honeymoon 6 years ago after having been “married” in a ceremony that meant nothing more than symbolism to a society that was, at turns, benevolent about the whims of a few gay folk, yet smirking about his love for another person of the same sex. “Have your fake ceremonies, for what they are worth, but don’t get obnoxious and ask for anything actually bordering on legal or realistic.” society told them. But Kenneth & Bob took it, because validating it to one another was really what counted. But tonight, it ended up needing to mean so much more.

Bob carried that photograph in his wallet as a reminder of his relationship and what it meant to him. Tonight, he said goodbye to a smiling face in a picture because he had no legal right to be present to say goodbye to his loved one in person. So Bob sat in the parking lot in the passenger seat of my car and wondered the fate of the man he had given his love and life to. He held the only thing at that moment Kenneth’s family could not take away from him – that photograph.

The hospital, at the behest of Kenneth’s family, had banned Bob from Kenneth’s room, or seeing him in the hospital at all. 26 years treated as though they were mere passing acquaintances or work colleagues. Simply because Kenneth’s family could never accept their son’s orientation (NOT “lifestyle” as some refer to it).

Tonight, a nurse sympathetic to Bob’s situation and in violation of the hospital policies, came to the car window and delivered the news to Bob that Kenneth was gone. And Bob said his goodbyes and wishes of love and peace to a picture. A fucking photograph. Held to his chest as though he were holding his loved one in tears. Because that was all he had.

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Some people have mentioned legal papers as a form of protection from this sort of thing. Yes, I agree wholeheartedly, as did Bob and Kenneth because they had them drawn up. But what happened last night revealed a chink in the armour regarding that form of “protection”. Bob did not have access to those papers, because he was with me and not at home.

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There was no time, nor presence of mind under the circumstances, to race across Phoenix (a sprawling place for those who know) to get a piece of paper to wave in front of some administrator so Bob could be afforded his legal rights.