I grew up in Canada and spent all my summers in Waterton Lakes National Park. Our most exciting game was to hunt for bears. We usually found them. We would play a game of seeing how close we dared get to the bear. But our parents always told us to never tease a bear if there were ever any cubs close. Mother bears with cubs around were very aggressive and dangerous. I am very much like those mother bears we used to encounter. So if my remarks tonight are a little militant or acerbic just chalk it up to the mother bear in me.

One New Year's night two years ago, my son was pacing nervously saying he had something to tell us. Little did I realize the change that particular conversation that night would make in my life. As he talked about the Kinsey scale explaining where he thought he fit on it, my original response was, "You're wrong," knowing deep down in my heart that he wasn't wrong. My next response, was, "Then you can be celibate! With our longevity gene, you only have to be alone for about 45 more years," again knowing that deep down in my heart I was not being realistic. And I remember the intensity of his reply when he said, "I will not be alone the rest of my life."

I've thought of that conversation many times, and how easy it was for me to proscribe his celibacy from my little cookie-cutter existence. I who have never known loneliness. I who always had someone. I who know 

After that New Year's night conversation of course I went through the usual gamut of emotions that all you parents out there know only too well. There were many tears. My husband was very patient and kind as I switched from anger to tears and back again. Anger is so consuming that sometimes it felt so good. My anger of course was for all of the hateful rhetoric that lurks out there and has trickled down into our churches and homes. The Jerry Falwells with their Chicken Little mentality of misinformation and abuse. One thing I want to make very clear. My tears were never because of my son's sexual orientation.