Married ... in all ways but one

Stuart and John. I've never known one without the other.

I first met them as a single person in California, where they always welcomed me to their home, their table and whatever was on it.

After I married, they welcomed my new husband. We shared our stories, our meals, our struggles to be good partners.

When our son was born, Stuart and John oohed and ahhed. Years later, when we were all living in Seattle, Stuart would pore over school applications with me; he wanted the kid to succeed as much as I did.

And when my heterosexual, church-blessed, tax-break-earning marriage fell apart, Stuart and John were there with the wine and sympathy — but also to prove to me that love can work.

"We've been the role model to our straight friends," Stuart told me the other day in a tone I can only describe as bittersweet.

Stuart and John have been together almost 32 years.

I couldn't hack 10 years of marriage. And yet, I had more rights than they have ever known.

Under federal law, they can't file their taxes jointly. They can't inherit each other's estates. They can't receive each other's Social Security or pension benefits.

"And we can't serve our country," Stuart said, just in case that was lost on anyone.

He reminded me of all this in advance of Seattle's upcoming LGBT Equality Weekend, a series of events organized by a group of community organizations. (For details, go to www.seattleoutprotest.org.)

The events are planned to coincide with the National Equality March, to be held in Washington, D.C., on Oct. 11 — which is also National Coming Out Day.

That's all they want, you know. Equality. A federal law guaranteeing equal protection in all matters governed by civil law in all 50 states.

As it is, John and Stuart take chances with their status; with who recognizes what, and where.

It's like avoiding the cracks in a sidewalk; cracks that could swallow you whole if one of you needs to get into a hospital room, or sign off on an emergency procedure. If one of you dies.

They're not even safe at home.

Next month, voters will decide Referendum 71, which could overturn certain rights the Legislature guaranteed for state-registered, same-sex partners and heterosexual domestic partners over 62. A vote to approve R-71 keeps the law; a vote to reject dumps it.

"This referendum has nothing to do with marriage," Stuart said. "This has to do with seeing my partner in the hospital if he gets sick. It is a real fear."

They have some arrangements with their health-care provider; many of their other protections are contractual, overseen by a lawyer. Hardly a simple or inexpensive undertaking.

As for marriage? Stuart and John have been married for years. They traveled to Vancouver right after same-sex marriage was legalized there.

It's not important to them whether same-sex marriage is allowed in the U.S.

"Having equality is more important," Stuart said. "The word 'marriage' may be important for people with children, since it connotes a certain sanctioning that a child understands.

"But I don't care what you call it. I just want to be treated the same."

We treat gay, lesbian and unmarried older partners the same in matters of our hearts, our homes, our families.

Why can't they get it on paper?

Nicole Brodeur's column appears Tuesday and Friday. Reach her at 206-464-2334 or nbrodeur@seattletimes.com.

Thanks for the memories.