If they’d been allowed to dream, they might’ve expected sons who were not carbon copies of themselves. They might’ve imagined boys in all their glory, dancing before the world without shame. They might’ve granted a queer son permission and affirmation to be himself—regardless of the world’s reaction. They might’ve known that some spirits come into the world to disrupt normalcy and thereby create space for the despised and rejected. And they might’ve understood, finally, that every son is an eternal blessing. If they’d been allowed to dream.
