While the memory is still fresh in my mind, I just wanted to flashback to several days ago, when Thom and I registered our domestic partnership.
Although domestic partnerships in California can be filed through the mail, we wanted to make it as special an occasion as possible, so we filed in person at the San Francisco regional office of the California secretary of state. It’s a nondescript office on the fourteenth floor of the state building, and it seemed everyone else there was taking care of more business-related tasks: certifying documents, registering a corporation, etc.
Our number was called, and the person at the window was so gracious and almost happy to see us when we told her we wanted to become domestic partners. (I later asked her name: Elsa.) After taking our fee and forms, she got up and said, “I’ll go enter your information. I’ll be back, and between now and then…”
I thought she was going to say, “You’ll officially be partners.” But she said, “You’ll have one more chance to decide if you want to do this, before I transmit your information to Sacramento.”
Thom wondered if people really back out at this point, and she said, “You’d be surprised.” Ha.
She came back. “Well?”
I don’t remember exactly what we said, but we were sure. We were ready.
She left again and returned several minutes later, this time coming out into the lobby where we were sitting. She put her hands on our shoulders, congratulated us, and gave us a letter and our certificate of domestic partnership. This was really happening. I was so happy.
Thom and I left the office, and hugged and kissed in the hallway. We took a photo of ourselves with our certificate and then left the building.
It was Friday, the 13th. And it had started to rain. Still, we’ve always said we’re both pretty lucky.