Love...And Now Marriage

I looked. I listened. And boy did I learn.

I saw the ecstatic tears flow freely from the couples as they embraced individually, yet celebrated collectively, upon hearing the verdict.

I felt the love of couples like Larry Hoch, 66 and David Twombley, 67, a couple wearing cable knit sweaters and wide smiles who appeared to have the same unbreakable bond as my two sets of grandparents—both of which have been married for over 55 years.

I watched Jamison, the two-year old son of Ingrid Olson and Reva Evans walk up to the podium in his decision-day best as his two mothers reacted to the decision that began before he was born.

I sat next to Tim McQuillian and Sean Fritz, a couple who became Iowa’s first legally married same-sex couple when they married in 2007 before a judge overturned a ban on gay marriage. I saw their emotions escalate as they realized that their second time wasn’t going to last four hours but forever.

Being part of this monumental event made me realize how much I have taken my own social rights for granted. As a white, heterosexual, middle-class, suburban Catholic girl, I don’t deal with social stigmas on a daily basis. I can answer questions about my demographics without worrying about being judged by my responses. I can blend into a crowd without caution.

When I went for a run post-press conference this afternoon, the first song that came on my IPOD was Hanson’s “This Time Around.” Embarrassing, I know. Yet I couldn’t help but ponder how poignant the last stanza was on this profound day:

You can’t say I didn’t give it

I won’t wait another minute

We’re on our way this time around.

We don’t have a crystal ball to foresee what ‘this time around’ means. But there are a lot of possibilities. Perhaps one day today’s verdict will outdate the phrase “coming out.” “Closets” may be used strictly to hold clothes, rather than a person’s politics.

People won’t have to wait another minute to be open because each moment will be the right one.