My first, last love
The idol of my youth,
The darling of my manhood. Tennyson
I was in my teens when I realised the man living with my Uncle for many years was his lover. They shared a bed and hosted gatherings, yet the truth of two men in love was smothered- typical of the 60’s and 70’s, fact was whispered and often lost amongst raised voices.
After his death, outliving that of his partner, I salvaged his suitcase-full of treasured items and a couple hundred slides of visits to Capri, Venice and other 60’s-tinted locations. Small albums and slides revealed two men wearing gold bands on their second finger left hand. Eyes, mouths, carefully placed hands and a leaning-in revealed intimacy amidst the hetero-holiday crowds they were part of, and apart from. I was determined to salvage evidence of their love and give it posthumous respect.