It Gets Better if We Can Just Get It.

*SIGH* I had a horrid morning. I hate to place blame on any one person for my mood...but it was all Finn's fault.

Kurt and I sat at his dad's diningroom table watching Finn as he leaned against the kitchen counter shoveling Golden Grahams into his mouth in Mistletoe boxers and nothing else. (And seriously? Mistletoe boxers? What kind of message does that send?) We were all spending the last week of December at Burt's. It was our first Christmas with our foster son, Max and we hoped to make it perfect for him.

With milk dribbling down his chin & his mouth obscenely full, Finn all but dashed that hope. He stared down at an article detailing the tragic events of Matthew Shepard. He would have been 36 years old this year. As two gay men raised in a small town, Kurt & I could relate to Matthew Shepard's story. As Kurt's stepbrother, so could Finn.

"That could have been you. It could have been either of you. Still could," Finn informs in a quiet voice.

I look over at Kurt again before answering, "Hate is a disgusting, ugly thing, Finn. But things are moving forward, getting better."

Finn rolls his eyes & scoffs.

"I'm not going to call you stupid, but you're both incredibly naïve. Do you really think anything you do makes a difference? Things don't 'get better,' period, no matter how much you fight. Care all you want, it doesn't change the fact that horrific things happen. Things like Artie losing the use of his legs, or Max being deaf & abandoned by his parents, a 12 year old Taiwanese girl being sold into sex trafficking...or homophobes beating Matthew Shepard to death. The world is what it is. Unfair, sad, hateful."

"Wow, this conversation went south. Way to tinkle in my bowl of happy, dude," I quipped.

Finn gives me his, "Hey, I'm serious" look, then says, "Hey, I'm serious. (can I read this guy, or what? :0)) You care too much & for what? What can one person do?"

My eyebrows shot up, & it suddenly occurred to me that perhaps Finn really was as clueless as his stepbrother claimed him to be. As if reading my mind, Kurt mumbles a quiet, "I told ya so."

Wow. He really didn't get it. I took a deep breath before asking, "Do you know who Richard Pimentel is?"

"No, nor do I care, Dude," Finn growls as he practically throw his bowl in the sink.

Kurt purses his lips a Finn's tone & gives me the "why bother" look.

"He was a disability rights activist & I care, because Richard Pimentel & people like him fought for the rights of the disabled. They're the reason Artie, Becky, & Max can go to school, the reason there are ramps for Artie, so he & others like him can included & not be imprisoned even more so by his wheelchair. People like Richard Pimentel stood up. Things got better.

"And FYI? Our POTUS is black. Not long ago, he wouldn't even have had the right to vote. He wouldn't have even had the right to a seat on the bus. People like Rosa Parks stood up. Things got better.

"Harvey milk? Well, he stood up for the rights of gay men & women, and even though there are people who see us, homosexuals, as "less than," the Harvey Milks of the world are standing up, and things are getting better."

"It's not enough," Finn mumbles.

"Tell that to Matthew Shepard's mother," I whisper, throwing his words back at him.

"What?" Finn stares at me, slacked jaw, shocked.

"Look Matthew Shepard's mom in the eye & tell her that her son's murder just isn't motivation enough to even try. Tell the 12 year old girl being sold into sex trafficking that she isn't enough for anyone to fight for, to save. Go tell Becky, or Max, or Artie they best suck it up, because life isn't fair. Believe me, I know what I do isn't enough to save anyone, let alone the world, & most of the time I feel guilty for not being able to do more, but to me helping somebody is better than writing everybody off. Caring too much is better than not caring at all," I said, my voice breaking.

"Kurt & I can only afford to have one child now, but why doesn't that one child deserve a family? Max has had a messed up life & we have had to work really hard to teach him to sign, but how can you say we wasted our time in doing so? How can you say that it doesn't really matter when Max can now say he loves us when we tuck him in?

"Max...who used to bang his head on the floor for hours & tear his room apart because he was just so frustrated that he couldn't tell anyone what he wanted, what he needed. Go tell Max that just because he is only ONE 8 year old child it was pointless for him to learn to communicate. Go tell him that his being able to have a voice wasn't worth the effort. Kurt & I stood up, Finn, & for our child, for the two of us, things got better.

We're doing everything possible so Max WILL have a 'normal' life." I reach over & thread my fingers with Kurt's. "I really thought you were going to a part of that."

A look of understanding crosses his features & he deflates. He gets it now. One life is more than enough to try. He turned away from us, leaning heavily on the counter, head bowed. Kurt & I sat in silence for the next few moments as Finn gathered his thoughts.

Finally turns back to me taking a deep breath, then says apologetically, "You know I love you, Blaine, but you have no idea how much I hate you sometimes."

"Oh, but I do. Remember Fight Club?" I ask, grinning.

"You're a smart dude. And kinda always right. Little intimidating." Finn clears his throat, "Um, hey...where is Max? I was going to have him show me some ASL today. Maybe the sign for 'uncle'?"

"He's in the garage with dad," Kurt pipes in. "Just put some clothes on. Seriously, the kid's been through enough."