Welcome to Love, Us, a column for telling queer love stories in all their glory. (And by glory, we mean all the big, beautiful moments and otherworldly little details that make making and falling in queer love so, so fun.) Read more from the series here.
The day after I moved into my apartment, my upstairs neighbor was outside watering the garden. “Let’s exchange numbers,” she said when I walked outside. “My name is Susan Grimm, like those brothers. And my wife is Anne, I’ll spell her last name. It’s ‘B’ as in bitch.”
I laughed so hard then that it was months before I actually figured out Anne’s last name.
In those months in between, I learned that Susan and Anne (66 and 67 respectively) moved to San Francisco after falling in love in college, just around the time when Harvey (as in Milk, as in they were on a first-name basis) was elected. They partied at Sylvester’s place (as in the disco icon, as in their friend dated him for a while), and have been married twice (both times to each other — Prop 8 cut the first one short).
Unfortunately, I wasn’t born to gay moms, but Susan and Anne baked me a homemade chicken pot pie the day I moved in, and sometimes Susan lets herself in through our backdoor and leaves fresh lemons she picks on our counter. Also, when I found myself in a relationship with someone who shared my first name, Susan looked me right in the eyes and said, “And that’s why they call us queer,” before turning around and walking inside. I imagine this is what having gay moms is like, so, when I decided to interview queer elders about love, they were at the top of my list. “No one’s ever asked us anything like this,” Susan said. “We’re fucking touched.” (You can take the girl out of New Jersey…)
As it turned out, that sentiment was also shared by the other three people I interviewed. Ms. Billie Cooper, 63, and Renée Imperato, 73, are both veterans and both trans women who, although they live on different coasts, share the fact that they are smarter than most other people I’ve ever talked to. And Miguel Gutierrez, 75, moved to San Francisco from South America, makes art out of found objects, and is in the throes of a budding relationship.