The other day, I had an unexpected visit from two very dear old friends. One of my former subs, a lovely man I call CK, and his husband were in town. They were trying to keep a low profile, but of course, Mizz Geena always knows.

One thing led to another, and they ended up spending the night at my home. It was a wonderful surprise, filled with hugs, laughter, and memories. But the reason behind their visit was heartbreaking.

CK’s husband is a Canadian citizen. CK himself immigrated from Venezuela nearly 30 years ago. Together they built a beautiful life in Los Angeles – a thriving business, deep community ties, and constant contributions to the people around them.

But this land, the one that once sang “from sea to shining sea,” doesn’t feel like our land anymore. Not for them. Not for so many. Being gay, brown-skinned, and undocumented has become dangerous in ways that feel unthinkable.

CK’s brother was taken by ICE. Disappeared, with no information. They hired an attorney, who, as of last week, was still trying to locate where he’s being held.

So they made a decision. They left. That night with us was their last in the United States. In the morning, they packed up and began their journey to the northern border. I was a wreck until I got the message — CK’s husband texted me to say they had made it across safely. They were on the other side, heading toward family waiting with open arms. They are in a country with people who accept them, and appreciate who they are.

It was a beautiful goodbye, but one filled with grief. I’m relieved they’re safe. I’m angry it had to come to this. And I’m holding onto hope that someday we will live in a place that values the people who work, love, and give so much – no matter where they come from or who they love.

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