Back in the day, I sometimes had people ask me what I would say if my son brought home a black girl, saying he wanted to marry her? Usually it was said jeeringly — “Talking about racial equality is all well and good but what if it happened in your family? Huh? What then?”
My position was that love is always good and if my son found it, I’d be glad for him. Period. I wouldn’t care about his love’s ethnic background.
More likely, in today’s world the more common question is, “What would you say if your son brought home another man and said he wanted to marry him?” The tone is the same as it used to be about African-Americans. “Yeah, where would your much-vaunted support for gay rights be if it was your own child?”
My attitude about love has not changed. I’d welcome my son’s gay partner into the family and be happy if my child was happy. End of story.
I have honestly never understood the big to-do about either race or gender. We’re all human beings, struggling through life, trying to find joy wherever we can. Why does anyone care where another finds it? I’d consider a rich old man with a young trophy wife, whom he married for status rather than love, the immoral partnership.
Same with religion. I don’t care what religion a person is or whether they embrace any religion at all. Looking for the meaning of life is a journey we all take. Some find answers that satisfy them and others don’t. For some the trip is short. They are content with the church home they had as children and that is where they stay. Others switch to a philosophy they find more congenial. Still others never do find what they’re looking for. For all of us, it’s a very personal mission and no one can say with certainty that someone else is right or wrong (although, of course, we do.)