The long version

Here are some of the details that I remember from our wedding. 

It started with introductions. One by one, our gathered friends and family introduced themselves and gave a glimpse of how we know them.

Amber Forest, the park ranger at Larrabee State Park, who was gave us a job as camp hosts when we were moving here and living in our trailer. She said, “I met them in the forest.”

Ken Matthews, our realtor, and his partner Wayne.  Ken helped us buy this house.

Our neighbors Kathy, Dan, Eliza and Paulina, who visit with us and our dog. Dan said, "Lynne helped us fix our front door lock."

Our friends from our circle of lesbian friends: Jerri, Lynn, Lora, Tovah, Janine, Kate, Jeanne, Amy, Janis, Michele, Ruth and Carol.  A few met us first at a reading at Village Books. The rest said they met us at gatherings of this "intentional community".

Ruth, Carol, Amber and Ken M.

Our first tai chi instructor, Lee and her husband Rick. Rick said he guessed he was here because he was lucky.



Kathy, Bill and their 17 year old daughter, Michelle.  During the service, Michelle presented us with a painting that she had done for us.

Our other neighbors down the street, Winnie’s second home, Ken W. and Phyllis, who were letting Winnie stay at their house during the wedding. They also lent us wine glasses, folding chairs, and made cookies.

Sara and Mike, my Census friends, who so kindly transported my mother here and then back home.



Cooie, Sara, Ken and Phyllis

My mother, in her blue dress, matching blue earings and sparkly necklace. She wore lipstick and rouge. When it was her turn to say how she knew us, she said, "I've known them for a long time."

Kay and Leslie, who have known us for 37 years.  They are Kentucky friends who moved to Bellingham before we did.

We had a lively crowd, who responded and spoke up.

Tovah sang the song that she composed "We Have Made a Vow", written when Proposition 74 passed.  Everyone cried.

We said our vows, facing each other and holding hands.



Kent looking on during the vows, Lynne and Sky

Lynne, Take me as I am. Set your seal upon my heart. Summon all that I may be.

Sky, Take me as I am. Set your seal upon my heart. Summon all that I may be.

The big hug. Kent is looking on. Michelle's painting is on the mantel.
It says "Sky and Lynne United in Love"

Kent pronounced us married, “Through the power vested in me by the state of Washington, I pronounce you married.”

Tovah (musician), Eliza and Paulina (flower girls),
Dan (father of flower girls) during "Song of the Soul"

That moment. Almost over. Everyone singing. Flower petals flying. We had done it. We all had done it.



Eliza finished throwing her flower petals. Then she started gathering them back up so that she could take them home. But she missed one. A flower petal landed on my mother. She picked it up and slipped it in her purse.

Warren, JoAnn, Michelle, Kathy, Kathy, Bill and Michelle
singing "Song of the Soul"



People stayed. Food kept pouring out of the kitchen. Our friends are golden, working tirelessly. Michele taking pictures. A blur of visiting with our friends, and then Lynne tugging at my sleeve to come sign the marriage certificates. The souvenir copy is sitting next to me on this desk as I write.

Applause at the end

 Sara broke open the chocolate high heel slipper that my writing group friends had given us, and circulated around offering pieces of chocolate slipper to the crowd.

Our friends Tovah, musician and Lora, caterer extraordinaire

Our friends who had worked for days preparing a table fit for royalty, kept the food flowing out of the oven and onto the overflowing trays.  They stayed until the end, washing dishes, organizing leftovers, and taking home extra bottles of wine and sparkling juices.

I am proud of everyone, of our diverse community, those who were here at the wedding and those many others who could not be. We are humbled by how much love has been expressed for us in so many small and large ways, on this day, before and since. 

On getting married

I don’t want to forget it. Maybe that’s why I’m awake at 4:15 am at this keyboard.  Too much to tell in one blog.  Too many moments to recount at once. 

The words that we spoke, the songs that Tovah sang, the living room cleared of furniture to make way for people who we love, on 40 folding chairs arranged in a half circle.  We stood in front of the fireplace, candles burning behind us, the hearth decorated with a plant given by our carpenter friend Gerry and his wife Jan. Kent and Tara, taller than I realized they were, standing on either side of us.  Lynne and I in the center, the center of everyone’s attention, the focus of the service.  We wore matching outfits, in the end, a last minute decision.  Both in black turtlenecks and soft jackets, both with a flowing brown, gold and black scarf, the same scarves that we wore in San Francisco when we didn’t get married in 2004. 

So let's start with words.

So many beautiful words.  Here's what Lynne read.

I have lolled about camp, writing letters home, sewing on buttons, etc.; but most of the time in a sort of day-dream—a glorious day-dream in the presence of this grand nature. Ah! this free life in the presence of great Nature, is indeed delightful.

There is but one thing greater in this world; one thing after which, even under the shadow of this grand wall of rock, upon whose broad face and summit line projected against the clear blue sky with upturned face I now gaze; one thing after which even now I sigh with inexpressible longing, and that is Home and Love. August 4, 1872 Joseph LeConte writing home from his first visit to Yosemite

Here's what I read:

We are a stew made up of parts claimed from each of us

some parts we both claim now.

Start with two independent hippie spirits

and a base of romance

temper with a touch of caution.

Add some serendipity and mutual attraction

infuse with a longing for a place to be ourselves

baste with a desire for a relationship that would last

add a pinch of surprise from each of us

a touch of artistic spirit.

Season with a string of much loved dogs.

Stir in some scientific skepticism

then blend in a touch of mysticism

turn the arguments down to simmer …

Add some growth

some maturity.

Let it rest.

Let the trust rise.

Add adventure

frost with memories

sprinkle in mountains

and spice it up with kayaks.

Move our lives from house to house

Then from Kentucky to Washington.Enrich the flavor with friends

add community roots.

Let it age

test for depth

and then boldly serve with courage

spread with joy.

More tomorrow: Vows, flower girls and food

Frequently Asked Questions about lesbian weddings

OK, I am totally making this up, but I think it would be like this:

Q: What are you going to wear?

A: I’m still not sure. Its 48 hours away, I have to work all day tomorrow, and I have a couple of options.

Q: What is your partner going to wear?

A: She’s not sure. We both rarely dress up, and this question is torture. We’d both rather wear fleece, but we are trying not to.

Q: Are you going to wear dresses?

A: No, but my mother is. That was one of her first reactions when I told her we were getting married. “I have to buy a dress!”

Q: Don’t you want to wear a white dress?

A: No. I’d be totally uncomfortable and Lynne would be mortified . Luckily, it’s not required.

Q: Aren’t you going to wear high heels?

A: No, as lesbians we are duty bound to wear practical ugly shoes.

Q: What colors are you going to wear?
A: I trying not to wear all black, but that sure is appealing.

Q: Will you have wedding cake?

A: No. We’ve been together 35 years! We are in our sixties! Plus, our friends in Kentucky made us a wedding cake after we didn’t get married in San Francisco.

Q: Aren’t you going to feed each other cake?

A: No, that would be silly. See above answer.

Q: Who is going to give you away?

A: No one. We aren’t in anyone’s possession at the moment.

Q: Will you take a honeymoon?

A: If we can get my brother to take my mother to church the next morning, that will be good.

Q: Don’t you want to go anywhere?

A: We have already taken five trips this year. Maybe we’ll do something in January when we have more money.

Q: How will I address my Christmas card to you? Mrs. and Mrs.?

A: Our names would be sufficient.

Q: What will you call your spouse?

A: See above. Plus, "honey", "sweetheart" and "girlfriend."

Q: Who is marrying you?

A: The two ministers from our church, First Congregational Church of Bellingham.

Q: What will he say at the end?

A: We’re not sure. We’ll let you know after the wedding.

Q: Will you cry?

A: Guaranteed.

Q: Why?

A: The weight of having an intimate, lifelong relationship that is not recognized as such will roll off my heart. My heart will cry, probably from the moment the ceremony starts.

Q: But you’ve been together 35 years!

A: Thirty five years is too long to bear the disappointment of being dismissed because we aren’t heterosexual.

Q: Is your relationship that important to you?

A: As we will say in our vows, this relationship is our home upon this planet.

Public Displays of Affection

Part 4 of "Countdown to a wedding"

The year was 2000. The place was St. Michael’s Episcopal Church in Lexington, Kentucky. Lynne and I were coming up on our 23rd anniversary, but we faced a dilemma that we had to resolve. The church service that we had begun to attend, an informal Saturday afternoon meditative service, invited those attending to come forward for a special blessing if they had a birthday or anniversary to celebrate. The congregation would then read the stock “Birthday and Anniversary” prayer for those who had come forward.

July 2010

OK, so what’s the punch line, you may ask. Lynne and I disagreed about whether we could go forward for that blessing. The argument went something like, “I’m not going to that church if we can’t go forward to ask for that blessing,” followed by “But I don’t want to expose ourselves to people’s disapproval and ruin our anniversary.” We obviously needed to negotiate, which we did. Our agreed solution was to go early to ask the priest if we could come up for the blessing, and then if we did, we would stand next to each other, our shoulders could touch, but we couldn’t hold hands.

There’s a happy ending to this story. The priest was Sandy Stone, an effusive, huggy kind of warm reach-out person. We were the only ones who came forward for the blessing, and when we did, she grabbed both our hands in hers, and asked everyone present to come forward and reach out to touch us while they read the prayer. Which they did. There we stood, surrounded by strangers touching us and holding hands, being blessed by the Birthday and Anniversary prayer.

We were uplifted. As we walked down the sidewalk towards our car, I felt lighter, taller, and happier. Some heavy stone had been rolled off of our hearts.

Twelve years later, here we are in Washington preparing for our wedding, thanks to the legislature and 54% of Washington voters who affirmed our right to marry. We are having the wedding in our home. We invited 38 people and they all accepted. We have wonderful music and readings planned, and we timed it so that the sun would be setting outside our picture window during the service. We have two warm, supportive ministers officiating, one of whom is gay. I’m sure I will cry throughout the service, and at the end, we will be invited to kiss. After 35 years, it will be our first in public.

July, 2010

Dying while gay in Kentucky

(Part three of "Countdown to a wedding")

Today our minister included us during the Prayers of the People.  He was referring to us, specifically, and to gay people who are getting married in Washington, in general.  He spoke of our "hopes of a married life together that is recognized by the state."  

For years, Lynne and I scoffed at the necessity of our relationship being recognized by the state.  We were proud that we continued to be together because we wanted to be together, not because we had a legally binding contract.  As we all have observed, a legally binding marriage does not guarantee a successful long lasting relationship.  I have lots of romantic things to say (stay tuned) about getting legally married, but right now I want to talk financial privileges.

Among the perks that a legally binding marriage does give:  access to the partner's health insurance, for one,  and exemption from inheritance tax, for another.  Seven states, including Kentucky, imposes a "death" tax of up to 16% on inherited assets and wealth.  The Commonwealth of Kentucky exempts close family members, such as the surviving spouse, from the tax. The law was not written to discriminate against gay people, but because the state of Kentucky (like five of the other states with Inheritance Taxes) does not recognize or allow gay marriages, the law does discriminate against gay people.

At present, when one person in a gay couple in Kentucky dies, the surviving spouse will have to pay 6 -16% of the assets of the other spouse, whether they are jointly owned or not, to the Department of Revenue of the state of Kentucky.  The assets that are taxed includes your house, bank accounts, trusts, retirement accounts and cars.  The details are on this web page: http://revenue.ky.gov/individual/inherittax.htm.  As long as gay couples are considered unrelated persons by the state, we do not receive the exemptions allowed to married heterosexual couples.  We are grouped in Class C beneficiaries: unrelated heirs.

Of course, 4 - 16% of your assets may be a price you are willing to pay to die as part of a gay couple in the state of Kentucky. Kentucky was my home for 32 years, and migrating to Washington meant leaving behind our best friends, our community, and the unfathomable richness which builds after being in one place for so many years. In exchange, we have found new friends, in a broader supportive community, and started a new chapter in our lives in an area with spectacular natural beauty.  And as of this election, we also have gained the right to marry.

I'm not anticipating mass migration of gay couples out of Kentucky. To spend the final years of your life among your community and family, in the beautiful state that is your home is everyone's dream.  To live out your years right where you are, the place where you have roots, is an unmeasurable gift. The price for lack of recognition of our relationships in Kentucky and four other states is the unfair application of the Inheritance Tax. My wish is that someday, you don't have to pay that price.  Civil marriage matters.

(Coming soon:  What are we going to wear, anyway?)

My worst nightmare

I was in the men's bathroom swabbing out a toilet when he came in.  This is my worst nightmare.  I was alone in the building, or so I thought, with all the outside doors locked.  It was about 7:45 am.  I had 15 minutes to finish cleaning the restrooms before I had to open the terminal.  I startled at the sound of his footsteps, and straightened up, the toilet brush poised in the air.

"I saw you in the newspaper," he said, with a big smile.  It was Drew, the owner of San Juan Cruises, whose office is right next to the Alaska Ferry office in the building.  He had not expected me to be there, as I was filling in for Jim, my co-worker that day. 

"Oh," I said, filled with relief.  At the friendly face.  That this was not going to be the morning of my worst nightmare.  That he had seen our article on the front page of the Sunday paper. That I was standing in the men's restroom in my blue gloves and he was headed for the urinals that I had just cleaned.

"That was neat," he said.

"Yeah," I said articulately.  "Thanks."  Then, "Oh, I'll step out for a minute."

"Well, thanks, it was a long drive," he said, as I detoured around him and left.

Lynne and I have definitely gotten more attention than we ever have before from the newspaper article in the Bellingham Herald.  It came out last Sunday.  We read it and then left to pick up my mother for church. When we arrived at my mother's assisted living residence, Betty and Doris (two other residents) were gathered in the hallway with my mother holding the newspaper high and reading the article out loud.  When they saw us, they said, "Here come the autograph kids!"  Everyone in the facility has congratulated us, from the nurses aids to the director. When we walked into church, several women came up to us and gave us warm hugs, and during communion, an elderly woman who was helping her husband down the aisle veered over to us and gave us a thumbs up.

Lynne was leaving our local favorite hardware mecca, Hardware Sales, and the wife of the man who constructed our deck a year and a half ago came up to Lynne to remark on the article and congratulate her.  I was slurping clam chowder at the cafe at the ferry terminal yesterday and a woman whom I took Tai Chi with came up to compliment me on the article, and introduced me to her husband.  They took the empty seats at my table and I regaled them with the update about getting the marriage license and finding enough folding chairs for the wedding and they both were supportive and warm.  I am just not used to this.

Joe, my co-worker, had already mentioned the article that morning, and I had already talked about the wedding with my other co-workers while we were putting together artificial Christmas trees to decorate the terminal.  As in, "Fluff those branches up some more.  Where are you going to have the wedding?" Maybe you don't understand.  For all my life, I have operated under the radar. The neighbor up the street leaned out of his car when I was walking Winnie the other day and shouted, "Saw you in the newspaper!"  Elizabeth, the PA who did my annual physical the other day chatted with me about the wedding throughout the appointment, including during the hard part.  The assistant who checked me in had already asked me about it, as had the waitress at the cafe where we went after getting our marriage licenses.

So, wow, marriage is different than "domestic partnership."  We are finding out how different.

More tomorrow:  What about a wedding cake?

Here's a link to the newspaper article:
(http://www.bellinghamherald.com/2012/12/02/2786281/after-decades-together-whatcom.html )

Countdown to a wedding

We ordered a sapphire blue dress and black dress flats.  Our friend came up with a blue ring and she will bring blue earrings.  All this to get my mother dressed for our wedding, upcoming on December 15th.  My mother has a speaking part (she'll read from Philippians) and yesterday she asked, how will people address your Christmas cards?  Mrs. and Mrs.?

This spring, my mother (age 96) was opposed to marriage equality.  When our church planned to make a video in support of Prop 74, she was one of the few who stayed in her pew and did not come forward to participate in the videotape of the congregation saying "We support marriage equality."  She made a disparaging comment about it on our way home from church that day.  Lynne and I explained the reasons why we would like to get married, among other things the possibility to eventually be covered on her federal health insurance.

Sometime between that day and this, my mother changed her mind.  Was it because the topic was frequently mentioned at church?  I doubt it was from spending time with us.  I told my mother that I was a lesbian 34 years ago.  My mother has spent many visits and holidays with Lynne and me, seemingly enjoying the company of our friends and community.  I never heard her negative comments until 2004, when two events collided:  Gavin Newsome opened the door to same sex marriage in San Francisco and Fox news covered it.  When I called my mother to tell her that Lynne and I had an appointment to get married in San Francisco, I was taken aback by her slurs against gay people, including the comment that "they" shouldn't be shown on tv. 

Do you feel the energy I have for this story?  The hurt, the disappointment, the sting?  OK, that's off my chest.

Yesterday, Lynne and I applied for our marriage license.  What do you think I felt 35 years after we spent our first romantic night together?  To be going up to the computer station and filling out the form ("Do you want to be spouse 1 or spouse 2?) and then going to the desk for the clerk the certificates?  You are right, I cried.  I cried just waiting in line once the office opened.  Seeing the other couples ahead of us filling out their forms.  Being in the marriage license office. Watching the clerks watching us.  Nobody had said a thing to me, nothing had happened. I swallowed hard and tried to mask my tears.

So this week, we are starting the countdown for our wedding, and I hope to share the experience with you each day, especially because so many of our friends and family are in Kentucky and at random distant locations around the US.  We aren't the first same sex couple to get married (Massachusetts has been allowing it for 8 years), we aren't the first in Washington (some of our friends are beating us to the altar by several days), but it is the first time we are getting married, and it is a first to be able to get married in the state of our residence among our Kentucky friends.  Thanks for reading and stay tuned!  Exciting topics to be covered: What will we wear?  What will we say?  How do we feel about getting married after 35 years of being together?  And where are we going to get enough folding chairs?

Royal visitors, Snowy Owls

Visitor from the Arctic (photo by Lynne Pharis)

He turned his head 180 degrees and looked me directly in the eye. We stood 30 feet away, a cluster of eager bird watchers in dripping rainsuits, peering through fogged up binoculars.  He held his yellow stare for many seconds, then he swiveled his head back around, turning his gaze out towards the washed up logs, windswept brush and shoreline.  I was thrilled to see this Snowy Owl, a sight that may not occur for another 10 years so close to home.  Snowy owls  "irrupted" into lower British Columbia and Washington state this winter, in numbers large enough to draw us from our cozy abodes, across the US-Canadian border, and out to this gravelly berm on a cold and rainy April day. 






In front of us stretched the marine shoreline that borders Boundary Bay in British Colombia.  About every 50 feet, a white form dominated the setting, standing sentinel from a log that barely lifted it above the lowland that it watched.  We first saw a group of three Snowy Owls in the distance, then, by walking down the path, came to a series of regularly spaced solitary owls, each staking out its own territory. 


Three Snowy owls stand sentinel (photo by Lynne Pharis)

I rarely see owls; if anything, I hear them.  In Kentucky, at dusk and at dawn, we would hear Screech Owls and stop in our tracks to listen to their syrupy calling.  Once from a high forest trail near our house in Washington, I looked down to see an owl swoop out of a tree that was below me and fly up Whatcom Creek   Today I started telling my writing friends about seeing the Snowy Owls, and the room burst forth with so many enthusiastic owl spotting stories that I never got to finish telling my own.  To see an owl...a treasure to many, not just me. 

I stared.  The owl stayed put, moving only his head.  He peered intently in one direction at a time, to the west, to the southwest, to the east, and back to the west, to the northeast, and occasionally, to my delight, towards me, where I stood with a clutch of birders. He had that "teacher's eye" that made us be still and try to not disturb him.  He looked surprsingly soft and well fed, plumper than any bird I've ever seen that flies.  I found it hard to gauge from a distance how tall he was, sitting on a log that was once a gigantic northwest tree. The reference books gives their average height at 24 inches.  His plumage was royally white with dark wing tips. He looked like he could be flying off momentarily to an aristocratic avian ball. He had the self confidence to hold court.



A juvenile Snowy Owl (photo by Lynne Pharis)

Did you miss seeing them this year?  Most are already gone, the rest will be returning north any day now.  The cold wet spring has delayed the departure of some.  I like to think of their voyage and their summer destination, north of the Arctic Circle.  I probably will never see Snowy owls hunt for lemmings on the tundra, but somehow I feel more connected to that part of the planet because of my encounter here.

George C. Reifel Migratory Bird Sanctuary vista (photo by Sky Hedman)

Snowy owls were just one of the birds that we spent the day with yesterday.  At Reifel Migratory Bird Sanctuary in the Fraser River delta, we hung out with fashion designed wood ducks, staccoto voiced sandhill cranes, and overly friendly Canada geese. For the first time, we met Lessser Scaups and Pintail ducks.  Pleasant company, all.