For Helen Lawson, the meaning of "Pride" has never been static. It has evolved through the decades, shifting from the collective exuberance of parade routes and advocacy to the quiet, introspective chambers of the human heart. For 31 years, Pride was synonymous with a single person: Wallace Greene. Their love story, which began with a chance encounter in a grocery store in 1992, became the foundation of Helen’s world—a shared life built on companionship, community, and the simple, profound act of being seen.
However, when Wallace passed away in 2024, the foundation of Helen’s life shifted. The ensuing grief was not merely an emotional hurdle; it was an existential earthquake that left Helen in isolation. Yet, it was within this period of profound darkness that Helen discovered a new, authentic version of themselves. Today, Helen’s story serves as a testament to the resilience of the human spirit and the vital importance of support networks for aging members of the LGBTQ+ community.
A Life Built on Connection: The Chronology of Love and Loss
The narrative of Helen and Wallace is one of quiet devotion. When they met in 1992, the world for LGBTQ+ individuals looked vastly different. Navigating that landscape required courage, and together, they carved out a space where they could be their true selves. For over three decades, they participated in Pride parades, waving flags and celebrating a hard-won visibility. To Helen, Wallace was not just a partner; Wallace was the physical embodiment of Pride itself.
The sudden absence of that presence in 2024 was cataclysmic. "Because of the prolonged grief, I became somewhat of a recluse," Helen reflects. "I felt very disconnected from Pride." The withdrawal was a protective mechanism, a way to insulate a heart that had been broken by the loss of its primary witness.
However, grief often strips away the superficial, leaving only what is essential. In the stillness of mourning, Helen began a process of self-reckoning that led to a liberating realization: they were non-binary. Transitioning into this identity while simultaneously navigating the depths of bereavement was a complex, dual process of ending and beginning. Now identifying as non-binary and using he/they pronouns, Helen has found that while the definition of Pride has changed, it has also deepened. It is no longer just about outward celebration; it is about the internal integrity of living one’s truth.
The Role of Support: Shanti and the LAASN Initiative
When the weight of loss threatened to become insurmountable, Helen turned to Shanti, an organization dedicated to providing emotional and practical support to people facing life-threatening illness, isolation, or profound grief. Specifically, Helen connected with the LGBTQ+ Aging and Abilities Support Network (LAASN), a program designed to address the unique vulnerabilities of older queer adults.
It was here that Helen met Danny, a Peer Support Volunteer. In the context of hospice and bereavement care, the role of a volunteer is often underestimated, yet for Helen, Danny became a lifeline. "I don’t know if I could have made it without them," Helen says. "The volunteers always meet me where I am."
This support was tested during another devastating blow: the death of Bright Eyes, the cat Helen and Wallace had shared for twelve years. For many, the loss of a pet is a secondary trauma, often minimized by society. For Helen, it was the final thread of the domestic life they had built with Wallace. Recognizing the gravity of this loss, Danny stood by Helen at the vet’s office, reading aloud from The Goodbye Book. This act of presence—witnessing the pain without attempting to "fix" it—is the hallmark of Shanti’s philosophy. It provided Helen with the safety to grieve fully.
Moments of Grace: Redefining Remembrance
The friendship between Helen and Danny grew through what many would consider mundane activities: running errands, organizing an apartment, and marveling at Christmas lights. These "micro-moments" of connection served as a bridge back to the world of the living.

Perhaps the most poignant example of this healing occurred when Danny invited Helen to see a theatrical production. Years earlier, Wallace had taken Helen to see the same play, but due to struggles with substance use at the time, Helen had been unable to fully process or appreciate the performance. The memory had remained a source of lingering regret—a "what if" moment in their shared history.
When the play returned to town, the invitation offered a rare opportunity for closure. "That experience was profound," Helen says. "I was grateful to have a second chance." Sitting in the theater, Helen felt the dual ache of Wallace’s absence and the warmth of Danny’s presence. It was a transformative moment of "re-experiencing" a memory, this time with clarity and gratitude. It allowed Helen to reclaim a piece of their past without the shadow of regret, proving that while we cannot change the past, we can change our relationship to it.
The Human Element: Challenging Preconceptions
One of the unexpected outcomes of this relationship has been a shift in Helen’s worldview. Through the consistent empathy and generosity of Danny, a straight man, Helen has found their perspective on interpersonal connections evolving. In an era often defined by polarization, this friendship acts as a quiet rebuttal to the idea that people cannot bridge cultural or identity-based divides.
"Our relationship has transformed the way I view connection and community," Helen notes. The weekly meetings—consisting of laughter, conversation, and mutual support—have served as a reminder that the most healing relationships are often the ones that cross traditional boundaries. It is a testament to the idea that at the end of life’s most difficult chapters, the labels we use for one another matter far less than the presence we offer.
Implications for LGBTQ+ Aging
The story of Helen and Wallace is not an anomaly; it is a preview of the challenges facing an aging LGBTQ+ population. Many older queer individuals face higher rates of social isolation, have fewer familial support systems, and often experience "compounded grief"—the loss of friends and partners during the height of the HIV/AIDS epidemic and beyond.
Key Data Points and Observations:
- Isolation as a Health Risk: Studies indicate that LGBTQ+ seniors are more likely to live alone and are less likely to have children, making community-based support programs like LAASN essential.
- The Power of Peer Support: Research into bereavement care consistently shows that the "presence" of a supportive peer reduces the duration and severity of complicated grief.
- Identity Continuity: The ability for individuals to explore their gender and sexual identity throughout the lifespan—even in later years—is crucial for mental health and self-actualization.
Shanti’s impact on Helen’s life highlights a critical systemic need: the integration of emotional support into the standard care model for the elderly. As Helen puts it, "Shanti adds life. Shanti provides life in situations that are very dark—but also moments that are light, that are fun, and that are carefree."
Conclusion: A New Definition of Pride
Today, Helen Lawson’s version of Pride is quiet, deeply personal, and resilient. It is no longer found solely in the roar of a parade crowd, but in the weekly coffee with a friend, the acknowledgment of a non-binary identity, and the courage to keep moving forward after a devastating loss.
Helen’s journey highlights that while the loss of a partner of 31 years creates a void that can never be fully filled, it does not have to be a permanent ending. By embracing the support of organizations like Shanti and remaining open to the unexpected connections that life offers, one can find the light again.
As we look toward the future of the LGBTQ+ movement, Helen’s story serves as a reminder that the work of Pride is not finished when the parades end. It continues in the living rooms of the elderly, in the offices of bereavement counselors, and in the quiet, courageous acts of those who choose to show up for one another. Pride is not just about who we love; it is about the community we build to ensure that no one has to face the darkness alone.
