Celebrating Family
Nothing makes you appreciate the life you have as a friend gone too soon.
In these pages I’m sure you’ve read about Bob Hoffer, who left the building, but not our hearts or our Facebook pages.
For me, the June 21 celebration of his life was far more than an emotional sendoff for a wonderful person. It was nothing less than an unforgettable affirmation of marriage equality and Rehoboth’s enormous community of chosen family.
So no, this column will not be sad. Rather, it’s a giddy shout out to all of us who made the deliberate choice to surround ourselves with our LGBT sisters and brothers (and allies!) to build a world that “gets” us, nurtures creativity, provides as much safety from bigots as possible, and brings us together as a huge, noisy, fun-loving, occasionally squabbling, often frenzied and always supportive family.
From bears to baby-dykes, lezzies to boy-toys, whether you’re butch, femme, young, not so, trans or cis, have certifiables from Ancestry.com or a mutt heritage, whatever your color, religion, or beverage of choice, we are fam-i-ly.
Many of us arrived in town, knowing RB’s gay friendly reputation, but knowing no one, or at best, only a handful of people here. Bonnie and I showed up, never having heard of CAMP Rehoboth, never having read Letters, wondering if we’d fit in. To borrow a phrase from a friend, as we spent every weekend here for the first few years, “we resided in Maryland, but had a life in Rehoboth.”
“You’re quitting your job and moving to Delaware? You’re insane!” my incredulous father shouted five years later when we broke the news. I struggled to explain the specialness of our lives here, but words failed. A video from last week’s service for Bob would have done the trick.
What a community we are. Where else could two retired lesbian teachers wander into CAMP to volunteer to stuff condoms for giveaways at the bars—the first women to join that particular volunteer team, I might add?
Or another now-local couple, on their way to the Carolinas to check out retirement options, stopping by Rehoboth for a single afternoon, meeting an enthusiastic booster in the CAMP courtyard, and immediately changing their plans?
Where else could newly-arrived LGBT realtors, newcomer dentists, or first-time authors be fast-tracked to success by such support from a community?
After all, it’s an American success story, where two guys from Altoona, PA can come to town, join a chorus, a church, and a local non-profit and less than a decade later, have made an indelible mark on the community.
In this special place, when locals are hospitalized, they often receive such hoards of visitors, hospital officials suspect they are harboring celebrities; if tragedy strikes, even strangers pitch in as we become GO FUND ME R US, one giant support system.
What’s not to love about Drag Volleyball, Broadwalk on the Boardwalk, Sundance, the exploding restaurant scene (and concurrent exploding waistlines), the best independent book store in Delaware, classes, art shows, live music every night of the week, Film Festival, Art League? I’m exhausted listing it all much less living it.
Oh, yeah, the beach! And Rehoboth Bay! Happy hours for drinking, or increasingly, in my case, for dinner—just don’t call it Early Bird.
What the coast offers us is mind-blowing and expanding. All you need to do is reach for it and join in.
As I scanned Epworth Church last Wednesday, looking at the crowd and the facilities, I thought, yes, for many of us in the Medicare Club, we’re apt to be back here too soon, celebrating the lives of lost family members.
But don’t be glum. If it seems there’s a lot of illness and loss going around, just remember this one very special thing about living in a small town like Rehoboth—when bad things happen to people, we likely know them; same for good things. That’s the nature of our family town.
So even in a troubled world, with threats to our rights, our wallets, our planet, and possibly our lives we must remember to look around and celebrate the wondrous events, opportunities, people, love, and freedom we have here.
Let’s take every opportunity to enjoy each other’s company, take part in the fun stuff, get involved, and live it the heck up. As my father also said (when he got over the shock of the Delaware thing), “You only live once, and if you do it right, once is enough.”
Let’s continue to do it right, my friends. In my newest book my new bio ends with “Fay and Bonnie are aging in place on a boardwalk bench in Rehoboth Beach.” Meet us there for some caramel popcorn.
After all, WE ARE FAM-I-LY.
Fay Jacobs is the author of As I Lay Frying—a Rehoboth Beach Memoir; Fried & True—Tales from Rehoboth Beach, For Frying Out Loud—Rehoboth Beach Diaries, and Time Fries—Aging Gracelessly in Rehoboth Beach. Cartoon by Kathleen Fitzgerald.