Cumberland

I am a 75- year- old Catholic woman who has been married to the same man for 53 years. We have six children and 13 grandchildren.

I remember having a conversation with someone many years ago in which I said, “I don’t know any gay or lesbian people.” The person I was talking with said, “Sure you do, you just don’t know they are gay or lesbian.” I thought about that.

Fast forward a few years. My husband, youngest son and I moved to a new community when my husband got a new job. I got involved with an organization in which I met some new people. As I got to know them better and better, I learned that some of them were straight, some were lesbian and some were gay. I remember thinking, “the gays and lesbians are just regular people.” I had been told for so long they were “different” or “sinners” or “sexual deviants” it came as a surprise to me they were just like me -- they had the same worries, thoughts, fears, etc. that I did, but since I already knew them as “regular people” I was able to not be judgmental and appreciate them for who they were. I guess my “consciousness was raised.” I kept them as my friends and continued to see them regularly. We did many things together and they continue to be my friends.

A few years after this my younger daughter, Melissa, called to tell us that she was a lesbian. It was and wasn’t a surprise. Was I pleased with the news? Not particularly, because by this time I knew her life would be harder since people didn’t know she was “just a regular woman.” I wanted for her the same things I wanted for my other children: for her to love and be loved. My other children were falling in love and marrying.

Melissa met Meredith and fell in love with her. Our extended family also embraced Meredith and welcomed her as part of our family. They have been committed to each other for over 15 years and take that commitment as seriously as my married children take their commitments to their spouses. Meredith is my daughter-in-law in thought and in my heart, if not in legality.

When my husband and I married it was a given that we were committed to each other. We got married and our commitment was recognized by everyone. Melissa and Meredith had a commitment ceremony. While our families recognize their commitment, the larger community does not. That makes us all sad. They needed to have a lawyer draw up legal papers to make sure they had theprotections we who are able to marry get at the time of our marriage ceremonies. They only want what the rest of us have: to spend their lives together, to share everything with each other, to have the right to make decisions about each other’s health care, to have rights of inheritance, adoption, etc. Things I never, never, never had to think about. I love them and want for them all the legal rights and privileges I have. They are not wanting anything most of the rest of us do not already have.

Before, I never, never thought about the legal protections I received upon my marriage. Now, it seems I think about them a lot. What will happen to these two women whom I love? Will they be able to be with each other during difficult health situations? Or can the community or hospital say to them, “Sorry, you can’t be here, you aren’t her spouse.” I want for them the things I have: to be with the person I love in sickness and in health, until death do us part.

Sara and Rita
Scarborough, Maine

We met in 1980 in South Paris, Maine, at a time and in a place where women falling in love with each other was something that didn’t happen. Back then there were no role models in the public eye, so people struggled with who we were. To be honest, we struggled for a while, trying to figure it all out ourselves. We have learned a lot about ourselves over the years and lovingly embrace who we are individually and in our relationship.

We have been in a committed relationship for over 29 years and now live in Scarborough. We are each retired from professions we loved -- Sara Jane as a financial consultant and Rita as a school guidance counselor. We are busy with our families, community activities, and our Quaker Meeting. Over the years we have watched our seven children grow up, leave home, and start families of their own. We now have eight grandchildren and love having them visit. We ride bikes, play board games, walk on the beach. The children enjoy having two grandmothers -- all the better for good fun and great food!

In our hearts we consider ourselves an “old married couple." We have many friends and neighbors who have come to know us well and to realize that our lives are very much like theirs, with one huge difference. Our relationship has no legal standing and therefore very few legal protections. We seek the peace of mind that will come when we no longer have to rely on people being willing to honor our durable and health care powers of attorney if one of us is in crisis.

Our lives are very rich, and we are grateful for our many blessings. But as people who were once in heterosexual marriages, it is unmistakably clear that our relationship is not understood or esteemed in the same way as that of a legally married couple. We remember the assumptions that people made about our relationships when we were married to men: that we were a family, that we were each other’s closest friends, that we belonged by each other’s side.

It is not so much that we mind explaining, but we are concerned that in a time of illness or need others will not understand that we are family, that we are each other’s closest friends, and that we must absolutely be by each other’s side.

There are also the questions that bother all loving couples as they grow older. If one or both of us needs nursing home care, will we be considered a family and allowed to be together? Or will we, for the first time in many, many years, be separated?

Or, what will life be like when one of us dies and leaves the other behind? For us the sadness will also be compounded by the fact that the deceased’s pension and social security benefit will disappear if one of us predeceases the other. That would represent a significant loss of income for the surviving partner and we both worry about what the impact would be.

But, most of all, we want to get married for the same reason that any other couple does: because we love each other.

Diane Sammer
Harpswell, Maine

I met Pam Dennis in 1979 when we were college students and I fell in love with her the first time I saw her. Surprisingly, it took her another six months to fall in love with me but once she did, we spent the next 28 years together. We grew up together, established our careers, and built a nice life in Harpswell. We had lots of fun traveling, boating, and taking the kids in our lives on adventures. 

We also had our share of ups and downs over the years. During the winter of 2007, we were contemplating our future when talk turned to getting married and the fact that we had never celebrated our commitment publicly. We felt that marriage was our way of taking our place in society and conveying to our family, friends and the world what we were a permanent unit and should be respected as such. But our marriage will never be. Pam died suddenly on April 2, 2008 at age 48.

We lived our lives together and demonstrated our love and commitment daily but our relationship never received the respect and protection that others take for granted. For that, we put all the proper legal documents in place — or so we thought.

Pam died at home in the early morning. When the funeral home came to pick her up I told them who I was and that I would be making arrangements. I offered them proof that I had her power of attorney and was to be executor of her estate, and they assured me that everything was fine. But when it came time to order cremation they refused my signature and asked that her parents consent. My power of attorney expired on death, and the will had not yet been probated, so only her "family" could consent to cremation.

I was shocked. After 28 years together, I was her family. It was with me that she discussed what she wanted in the event of her death, just as I told her what I wanted. It's me who her parents look to when they have questions about Pam's life and dreams.

Ultimately, lawyers were consulted and a special document was drawn up that required me to reimburse the funeral home if they get sued for allowing me to execute Pam's wishes. It was humiliating and just made an unbearable situation that much more so.

We had the legal documents that were supposed to protect us from just this kind of situation, but in that moment, I was not her partner of 28 years — I was not her family. In the eyes of the law I was nothing to her. This ordeal was a stark reminder that legal documents don't carry the weight of the words "marriage" or "spouse" and without that acknowledgement people simply don't understand or respect our families.

Although it's too late for Pam and me, I hope that Maine will once-and-for-all open up marriage and all of its social and legal protections to all families in our great state. 

Maggie and Cheryl
Portland, Maine

Like many young people do, Cheryl and I met and fell in love in college. It was 1972, and we were both studying to be nurses. This year, we will celebrate our 39th anniversary of a loving relationship and a wonderful life together.

We live in Portland. I am a tenured Associate Professor of Nursling at the University of Southern Maine. 

In 1986, I gave birth to our daughter, Emily. She is, and always will be, the love of our lives. She calls Cheryl "Matka," the Polish name for mother, which she clearly is to Emily. Yet, Cheryl and Emily went through her entire childhood as legal strangers. We did what we could legally to protect their relationship, but if Cheryl and I had been married when Emily was born, the law would have assumed that together we were her parents. Emily would have been legally protected by both her parents, as all children should be.

Our daughter is now 24 years old. She graduated from Skidmore College in May 2009 with a degree in business and returned to Maine where she is, fortunately, fully employed. She is an accomplished racehorse trainer, a future veterinarian and owns a horse farm in Maine. She has a wonderful boyfriend and can marry him if she wishes. We raised our daughter with strong values regarding family ties and the importance of being a good friend and citizen. 

It would be so meaningful to us if we could marry in the State of Maine. It is something we know would protect our family as we age. Even now, if Cheryl dies before me -- something I really don't want to think about -- I know that I won't have access to the same legal rights that legal spouses do.

Two years ago, I was diagnosed with Stage 3 cancer. I could not have gotten through this life-changing event without the love and support of Cheryl, who was with me every step of the way. She spent hours waiting and worrying while I was in surgery, and was with me through radiation and the long days of chemotherapy. She was my ear when the doctors discussed my therapy and my rock to lean on. It would have helped us greatly if we could have faced this crisis knowing that we were legally married, knowing that no one would ever doubt that Cheryl had the right to be by my side, knowing she would have all the legal protections available to spouses if something went wrong.

I know that we are already married in the eyes of God and in the eyes of our daughter. I hope in the not too distant future, we will be legally married in our beloved Maine as well.