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Authors: Ronni Sanlo

Purple Golf Cart: The Misadventures of a Lesbian Grandma (32 page)

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I wasn’t allowed to go to my grandma’s funeral. I had to stay home to help care for the younger children. Funerals weren’t happy places and children didn’t belong there. But I wanted to be there. I was so terribly, deeply sad and had no way to express my pain. My grandma just died and my heart was breaking. But I stayed home with the younger ones and to help prepare the house for the many relatives and Grandma’s friends who would soon arrive.

I polished my purple golf cart with a vengeance, because even now, 50 years later, I still miss her, and my heart still hurts. As I moved the cloth in exaggerated circles, I reminisced about how death was handled in my family when I was young. For example, when a fish died, my mother flushed it down the toilet and bought a new one the same day. When one of those stupid parakeets died, a replacement appeared before dark, though sometimes of a different color which was a give-away of the change. My mother, who truly meant well and was just trying to protect her children from loss and sadness, never mentioned the death or the switch although the process was quite obvious when fifteen year old Rusty, our family sheepdog, was replaced with a chocolate poodle puppy the day after she died. So the confusing issue for my eleven year old self was this: if animals who died were quickly replaced before the day was over, would there be another grandma by tomorrow? I hoped not. I just wanted the original one to come back.

In my family, people weren’t allowed to feel sadness or disappointment or anger. Nothing but happy—happy, happy, friggin’ happy. Children weren’t allowed to experience the passing of loved ones because the passing wasn’t a happy thing, so I had no understanding of how to grieve a loss. Later, when I lost custody of my children and when my friends died of AIDS, I was emotionally unprepared for the feelings that swirled around and squeezed the life out of my heart.

~~~~~~

I climbed into the passenger side of my purple golf cart, thinking about my grandma, feeling the sadness, still feeling the loss. I had to talk with her. I had so much to share, so much I wanted her to know. After fifty years, I still needed her. So I talked. I cried and talked and talked and talked. I told her about my children, about how proud she would be of them. I told her about Berit and what a terrific mom and scholar she is, and how she, too was vaccinated with a Victrola needle, as Grandma used to say about me with such pride because I was a non-stop talker as a child. I told her about Erik, what a fine young man he is and how he takes good care of his mother. I told her about my granddaughters and grandson, her great-great-grandchildren. I told her about me, about my life, about how crazy it’s all been but that it’s good now. I told her how much I love her and missed her all these years. And I told her that I know without a doubt that she’s always been with me, taking care of me when I couldn’t take care of myself.

With my tears landing on the hot pink upholstery, I scooted over to the driver’s side and heard my own voice say, “C’mon, Grandma. This 60-year-old eleven year old girl is gonna take you for one hell of a ride!” And I did! My grandma was with me. I felt her love enfold me as I cried a thousand tears. Suddenly, as I zoomed—as if one could really zoom in a golf cart—around the neighborhood golf course, I felt the sadness transform into joyous celebration. I felt the pain release its hold as I gave it over to the memories and to the joy of the moment. I began to feel a healing peace in my heart, perhaps for the very first time.

Later that afternoon as the sun was going down over the western San Jacinto mountains, I went into my house and saw the message light blinking on my answering machine. My heart, still full of emotion from the day, soared at the sound of the eleven year old voice of my own splendid, smart, funny granddaughter. “Hi, Grandma. I can’t wait to come visit you and ride in your purple golf cart.”

43. What’s Next?

__________________________________________________________________

2009-2010

U.S. President
: Barach Obama

Best film
: Avatar; Precious; Up in the Air, Inglorious Basterds; The Hurt Locker

Best actors
: Jeff Bridges; Sandra Bullock; Meryl Streep

Best songs
: Halo; I Gotta Feeling; Poker Face; You Belong with Me

Best Television shows
: 30 Rock; Glee; The Office; House; Big Love; Family

Civics
: U.S. Jobless rate over 10%; H1N1 flu; attempted suicide bomber on Delta flight; large earthquakes in Haiti and Chile; Healthcare bill signed into law

Popular culture
: Iowa, Vermont, New Hampshire, and Washington D.C. legalized same sex marriage; New York votes down gay marriage;

Deaths
: Michael Jackson, Farah Fawcett, Ed McMahon, Gale Storm, Karl Malden, Walter Cronkite, Ricardo Montalbán, John Updike, Beatrice Arthur, Danny Gans, Dom Deluise, David Carradine, Walter Cronkite, Eve Kosofsky Sedgewick, William Saffire, Mary Travers, Patrick Swayze, Sen. Edward Kennedy, Les Paul, John Hughes, Frank McCourt, Robert McNamara

_________________________________________________________________

Good question. I don’t know what’s next, and I’m okay with that. I’m open to whatever the Universe has in store for me. Maybe another book, a poem, a move, a partner, an improved golf game. (Please let it be an improved golf game!) Whatever, I’m ready for the next adventure, the next turning point.

My work changed at UCLA and I chose to retire. It’s time for the younger generation to take over campus LGBT work. My vision has been fulfilled. Smart, energetic new professionals—like my mentees Tom Bourdon, Molly Holmes, Janelle Wilson and many others—have new visions and new passions. They lived the lives their students are experiencing. They know without a doubt what to do and they have the courage to get it done.

Friends and acquaintances ask me how I feel about leaving campus work. After all, I’ve been a “gay activist” for over thirty years and now it looks like I’m putting away my rainbow gloves. First, I am the one who created this change. No one asked me to scoot over. I simply had the good sense to know and feel in my heart that it was time to do something different. When I began this LGBT work at the University of Michigan, my supervisor, Dr. E. Royster Harper, told me to remember each day to keep a student at the center of my focus, that we do our work in Student Affairs because of our students. I did. I had a student, though faceless, at the center of my focus every single day. When my son Erik came out as a gay man several years ago, suddenly that face was his. While many, many young people benefitted from my work, I realized I was called to do this work for my own child as well. He came out in safety and with love. I knew this part of my work was complete.

Second, I realized a couple of years ago that my personal identity had been completely wrapped around what I do, not who I am. My work was my identity. My self was an insecure women who needed to be propped up, bolstered by something because my personal life was such a mess. It’s like the woman whose sole identity is her husband, that her own sense of self is buried somewhere in his underwear drawer. As I grew more comfortable in my own skin over the last few years, I discovered myself aside from my work. My identity, who I am, no longer needs the bolstering from what I do for work. I was able to let go of the work, pass it on to the talented young folks I’ve mentored over the years, and move on to grow further into myself as an educator and consultant, a woman, a grandma. Such freedom! Such love!

I’ve been so blessed with—and perhaps because of—the ups and downs life has provided. There is still much work to do, much
tikkun ha olam
—changing of the world—to accomplish, and many more stories to write, both mine and yours. I encourage you to write your stories, or at least talk to yourself in a small tape recorder. (We’re old so we have the right to look and sound a bit crazy!) Who are you? What do you remember and how were you affected? Here are some prompts for you:

Green stamps (my favorite! I remember licking them into the books then going with my mother to the redemption center)

Dinah Shore: "See the USA in your Chevrolet!"

BurmaShave signs along the highways that weren’t yet Interstates or freeways

Roadside drive-in motels

Marlin Perkins

Reel-to-reel tapes

45 RP records

Brownie cameras

Flash bulbs

Chatty Cathy

Metal ice cube trays with the lift-up handle

Sky King

Rootie Kazootie

Transistor radios

Dial telephones and party lines

Studebaker

Fuller Brush (my mother was a Fuller Brush man!)

Topo Gigio

Television test patterns

Ringer washing machines

American humorist Erma Bombeck (1927-1996) once wrote:

Life is not a journey to the grave

With the intention of

Arriving safely in a pretty

And well preserved body,

But rather to skid in broadside,

Thoroughly used up,

Totally worn out,

And loudly proclaiming

WOW!!!! What a ride!

Do it! Take the ride! Don’t let those coming up behind you miss out on your life. Your stories are interesting to some and important to others. My email [email protected]. Let's share our stories!

For me, this life has been one great adventure after another, and I hope it continues for a long time to come. But when I go, I plan to "skid in broadside" with gusto, into that great gay golf course in the sky! How about you?

Warmly,

Ronni

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Ronni Sanlo was a Senior Associate Dean of Students and Professor and Director of the UCLA Masters of Education in Student Affairs. Formerly, Ronni was the director of the UCLA Lesbian Gay Bisexual Transgender (LGBT) Center, the University of Michigan LGBT Center, and an HIV epidemiologist in Florida. She earned her bachelor’s degree from the University of Florida, and a masters and doctorate in education from the University of North Florida in Jacksonville, FL. Ronni presents many workshops and seminars about LGBT issues for companies, campuses, and organizations and currently teaches in the higher education department at California State University Fullerton. Dr. Sanlo’s research and many publications focus on sexual orientation and social justice issues. Ronni lives in her Palm Desert retirement community where she rides around in her purple golf cart and plays rotten but passionate golf.