My mother wanted a new lawyer. She was on the verge of settling a lawsuit started by my father before he died, and was unhappy with her lawyers. They were advising her to settle the lawsuit because their star witness, my father, was dead.
He slipped and fell in a parking lot in 1986, hit his head on the concrete, suffered a head injury, and was in the process of suing the company that owned the parking lot when he got sick. He died before the case was settled. My mother was still grieving the loss of her husband, and her desire to not settle the lawsuit had more to do with her grief over my father’s death than the settlement that was being offered.
“If you aren’t happy with the counsel your lawyers are giving you, get a new lawyer.” I advised. My mother and I had recently reconciled after a two-year period of not speaking with each other. Our rift occurred because of her discomfort with my choice to live openly as a lesbian. Despite this period of estrangement, I knew her well. I thought her grief process was more important than the money the settlement offered, and I wanted her to do what she needed to face the loss of the love of her life. “Get a lawyer whose advice you value,” I said.
By the look on her face, this thought had not occured to her. “Well then, find me a new lawyer,” she said.
I found her a lawyer in town that I knew from my work at the lesbian and gay magazine that I was publishing. I made an appointment for my mother and I to meet with the new lawyer to explain the lawsuit. We were in the car on the way to the lawyer’s office, when my mother said, with an air of disapproval, “I presume this woman is a lesbian?” Just when I thought she was finally coming to accept my lesbian identity she started up again with the lesbian stuff.
“Yes, she is.” I replied, thinking to myself, I cannot believe we are going to rehash all this lesbian stuff. Again.
“Well, the men aren’t helping me,” she said. “I might as well go to the dykes,” the smile on her face widening. I didn’t even know she knew the word dyke. Maybe she really was changing her attitude.
Leaving Pakistan 
A somewhat similar tale in my family:My mother's divorce lawyer (circa 1980) was a lesbian, which made her very happy at the time (men doing nothing for her, etc). This also helped me out a lot when, 7 years later, I came out to her – she already knew a lot of dykes. Come to think of it, she still probably knows more lesbians than I do — at least in the East Bay!
It's always funny finding out what our mothers do and don't know about the lesbians.
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