Child of poly parents, grieving my four beautiful parents today
I want to start by saying I'm not poly, but my parents are (were). I was raised by a closed quad, in an unassuming
I had an idyllic childhood with four amazing parents - who all loved each other so deeply, I use to think to myself the sheer amount of luck it is to find one person you want to spend a lifetime with, let alone three.
My parents met in the 80's. One of my dad's was a busboy, the other were was a firefighter. They were drinking buddies. They met my mothers - an aviation mechanic and a airline gate agent at a bar owned by my uncle and one of my dads worked at. Their relationship started organically, and the four of them fell in love during the summer of 1991.
They would marry in August 1, 1992 - first in a joint wedding as two seperate straight couples for the show of larger society - and again on 9/2/92 in a small ceremony in the backyard of the duplex they purchased - the four of them participating in a handfasting with four hands only four a few close family members, coworkers and friends. My
I have seven brothers, my mothers gave birth to four kids each. A varying 'combination' of biological parents (genetic testing when we were all adults would determine all four possible 'combinations' existed).
To the outside world, we were two seperate families. Eventually we left NYC for a southern state. My mom and dad who were legally my parents would change their last name - and the last name of myself and four of my brothers to that of my other father to try to unify out family.
My fathers would go on to lie and say they were half-brothers to explain the close relationship and the names (which was actually pretty traumatic for them because they very deeply in love, and always 'hubby' to one another inside our house).
Everyday I had to say four of my brothers were my cousins. In public I had to call my own mother "aunt" and my own father "uncle." Maintaining the lie was hard - but it was necessary to protect the jobs of my parents - who worked at the same airline for 35 years each (the airline I work for now). One of my dads (the bus boy turned stay at home dad) went on to be a stay at home parent, and my other dad went on to be a battalion chief at a fire station in our city.
I am the second oldest of eight - I'm 28. My youngest brother is 19. We buried both our mothers in July 2020, They were both 61, healthy, we lost them both to covid. We lost our dad (the firefighter) in January of this year from complications of a stroke he had in December. He'd just retired. He was 55.
We buried our youngest parent today. We lost him last week to an overdose. He was 49. It was the first funeral we were able to have for any of our parents due to covid. My brothers and I just were honest in our eulogies. All eight of us spoke. No context for those who thought our fathers were brothers, and I don't really feel bad. I think he'd still be here if the world was a little kinder to poly families. He didn't leave a note, but he left behind some journals and doodles. I haven't read them, but my older brother painted a vague picture of our father who was grieving all three of his spouses, and not being able to share his grief with his friends because of fear of judgement.
I don't get this world. My parents died without ever just being able to be four people in love, in public. I'm grieving them, but I'm also grieving this beautiful, deep, special love they shared that the world couldn't accept. I loved them, and I am so lucky to have had four parents who were so in love. my parents gave me an idyllic life, and I had a wonderful family and it kills me that they had to lie just to keep my brothers and I safe. My heart breaks for them, but also for me.
What could my life have been if the world could have accepted queer and poly relationships thirty years ago? (not to say they do today)
We wouldn't have had to lied to teachers and to friends. Having poly parents never fucked up my brothers and I - we're all very normal, well adjusted adults with lives of our own. It was the world that made my childhood hard. I had four people to teach me about the world from four very different perspectives.