Member-only story
Yesterday, Liz and I made the big step of going to the courthouse and obtaining a marriage license following eleven years of knowing each other. No need to hurry, right?
After walking what seemed like a mile to me to get to the courthouse, we made our way by elevator to the tenth floor where marriage licenses are done. As I waited for the process, the more nervous I became. How would the clerk perceive us and would there be a bias. At the least we would be perceived as two women getting married and at the worst I would be outed as a transgender woman marrying a cis-woman. It turned out the only major problem I was going to have was my own fault. There was a pre-certification process I had to fill out before we went to pick up and/or do the licensing process.
For one, somehow I filled out the wrong question concerning my deceased wife and they had me as divorced at the time of her death. If all of that was true (it wasn’t) I would have had to come up with a divorce decree. I was able to convince the clerk I filled the form out wrong and I was definitely still married to her when she passed away.
Once I passed that hurdle, I had to go way back in my old noggin to 1978, to my divorce from my first wife. I was able to search county records on line from my hometown and actually located the file of our disillusionment I was looking for. Ironically the hardest part of…
