gay prideAll you need is love. That song’s been in my head lately as we enter yet another wedding season, at once the most-loved and most-hated season of the year … depending how you feel about love at the moment. I’ve decided to embrace it this year, because I’ve seen – and continue to see – what love can do.

Twenty-five years ago, at the height of the AIDS crisis, my uncle was succumbing to the virus. We didn’t know he was gay, and we didn’t know he was HIV-positive until he became ill. That was the way in many homes back then; if it was talked about at all, it was in hushed tones, and certainly not in front of the children.

When my uncle was dying, my father – not necessarily famous for his compassion – suggested he come live with my parents. My uncle declined, but my father’s gesture blew me away. When I asked what compelled him to make the offer, knowing – as I’m sure he did – the implications, he simply shrugged and said, “It’s Andy. What else can I do?”

His love for my uncle, and respect for my mother, my uncle’s sister, overwhelmed me, and made me see him a little differently. Still, the subject was not openly discussed.

A year or so later, my brother and I were dancing at a family wedding, and he leaned in and said, “I’m gay.” I hugged him, said, “I know,” and went right on dancing. I didn’t know that I knew, but at that moment, I did. I was at once happy for him that he was comfortable enough to come out, and sad for him that he’d had to be uncomfortable all those years in the first place. And, because of the times, afraid for his health and safety.

It was many more years before he was comfortable enough to share the news with my parents, devout Catholics, who, once again, responded the way one hopes a loved one would respond: with a few questions, and acceptance of his reassurance that it was simply biology – and that he knew how to be safe.

The subject didn’t come up again until my kids were old enough to learn about sex and love, and I found myself a little stymied: do I tell them about all types of sexuality at this young age? Is it too much information? Will it be too confusing? And then I remembered the years of anguish and downright torture I went through as a straight teen, and figured that talking about gays couldn’t be worse than that.

I asked my brother if I could tell the kids about his sexual orientation; I thought if I could put a face to it for them, it might be easier to understand. I was afraid that he might not be comfortable with them knowing, but his response was a lesson for me. He said, “Sure. Why not?”

I was actually perpetuating a prejudice by assuming he might want to hide his homosexuality. So when we had our ongoing “talks” with the kids, they always included the concept that romantic love can be with the opposite sex or the same sex. By the time we thought it appropriate to share that their uncle is gay, it was a non-issue.

As my son said, “He’s not better or worse because he’s gay; he’s him, and ‘him’ is great.”

The issue the kids have as they get older is when people use “gay” as an insult, but they work on it as they can. It’s a process, I know; in my family, we went from not discussing the horrible disease from which a closeted loved one was dying, to my kids hoping one of their favorite uncles will find “Mr. Right.”

Maybe not in my lifetime, but maybe in my children’s lifetime homosexuality will be like red hair or brown skin or a preference for cheese – not a good thing or a bad thing, just a thing that people won’t have to be afraid to share. I’m convinced that if people could just see with their hearts instead of their heads sometimes, this could happen. After all, it’s the season of love.

And as the song goes, love is all you need.

Maggie Lamond Simone is a national award-winning columnist and author. Her books include “From Beer to Maternity,” a USA Book News Finalist for humor, and “POSTED! Parenting, Pets and Menopause, One Status Update At A Time.” Her essays are included in “P.S. What I Didn’t Say” (2009), multiple “Chicken Soup for the Soul” editions, Cosmopolitan magazine, and Notebook: Magazine (Australia). She is a professor of journalism and public speaking at SUNY Oswego, Oswego, N.Y., a monthly columnist for Family Times in Syracuse, N.Y., and a blogger for The Huffington Post.