8 Middle Adulthood 215
loved him. It seemed as if nobody recognized this.... We partners
live in a very small segment of society that sanctions a lot of things,
but this isn’t the rest of the world. What I was doing was crossing a
boundary. As long as I was within that little circle I was fine, but every
time I had to cross that boundary it was one of the great difficulties.
Losing a partner is an experience that brings home in a very funda-
mental way how different our lives are. I have friends who are gay
that have lost partners. They have a community that supports them
and gives them sustenance.... I think they had more in the sense of an
understanding community than I did. (Walter, 2003, pp. 120–121)
Without support for her feelings, Laura felt abandoned following Jake’s
death. Further, Jake’s children, who had become like her own, distanced
themselves once their dad was gone. As she had no children of her own, this
increased Laura’s struggles with the developmental task of generativity. Laura
believed that her changed relationship with Jake’s children following his death
prolonged her healing process (Walter, 2003). In short, without marriage, part-
ners have few legal protections and often little social support after a death.
There is little research about bereaved lesbian partners. The scant lit-
erature (Deevey, 1997; Walter, 2003) reports that they face considerable dis-
crimination during the phase of illness preceding death. In our first edition,
“Illness, Dogs, and Discrimination: One Story of Loss and Grief from the Gay
and Lesbian Community” described Rev. Sue Vollmer’s experience as she sat
in the chapel of a hospital where her partner was having surgery for breast
cancer:
I wandered down the hallway into the chapel, hoping for some quiet
and the privacy for my prayer. Across from the chapel was the office
of Pastoral Care, the place where the chaplains worked and spent time
listening. I was grateful at first that I had found their office in case
I would need their help if Arden’s surgery went wrong or the news
was as bad as I expected it to be. It was a comfort to know that I was
not alone if I needed help. But my sense of safety and comfort didn’t
last long. As I sat in the chapel I heard the clear sound of three voices,
all talking about patients with whom they had visited, who they were
certain and quite pleased it seemed, would go to hell. “They deserve
it,” said one. “Disgusting perverts,” said another. And then I heard one
voice say what whipped away the safety in an instant... those damn
gays should all be dead.” There I sat, my partner in surgery, feeling
afraid and unsure of the outcome, and chaplains of the hospital, the
people who were supposed to be the comforters and the godly ones,
were damning Arden, me, and our amazing circle of friends. (Walter &
McCoyd, 2009, p. 234)
Bent and Magilvy (2006) found that bereaved lesbian partners perceived
that support was actually withheld or removed, something they referred to as
negative support. The bereaved had less resolution of their grief when nega-
tive support was in evidence. In another case from Walter’s study of bereaved
life partners, Corky’s family was particularly brutal toward Lea (her partner)
in the final days of Corky’s life. Although Lea was Corky’s primary caregiver