Wednesday, December 01, 2010

Threshold of Revelations

Another one has arrived. World AIDS Day.

If you've been reading this blog for any amount of time, you know my feelings on 'a day'. You cannot encapsulate anything like AIDS or Autism into 'a day'. It is unfair and ultimately, forgettable, unless you live with it daily.

'A day' is great for something like International Talk Like a Pirate Day.....and crap like that, but not for this.

People are creatures of habit.....or lemmings. They remember when they're told to remember. Sort of like the birthdays on Facebook.

Me? For my really good friends, I don't need that notification. Ditto for HIV and AIDS. No one has to tell me it is still out there and the fight but still to be fought.

Today I think of so many I knew whose timing was off. Ones that didn't have the "luxury" (yes, air quotes) of anti-retrovirals, or at least a better version of them.

I think of Stuart often. I remember his kindness and his sadness of it all. I remember his brother (a doctor), whom I never actually met and only talked to. Him being so grateful to me for helping Stuart get medical treatment, but doing it seemed like nothing, in the big scheme of things. Over a course of phone calls, I would update him and he would provide advice, but he was happy knowing someone could help his ailing brother.

Of course, I also remember his parents (again, whom I never met), whisking Stuart away in the middle of the night (literally) and taking him "home" - never allowing me to hear from him again and where I'm assuming he eventually died.

But it is daily I remember Mitchell.

How I do miss him. How I love looking at a picture of him every day, one that we have out in our house. Two, actually. I can't hardly believe it's been almost 16 years. It pains me to this day. I still have great memories of him though. It's nice to have the pictures, but that's not what makes me smile. It is my thoughts of him.

And naturally, for as many people I knew who succumbed to the disease, I know dozens more who live with it - in one form or another. Think about that. Dozens more!

I guess that's a good thing. Clearly, it would be better if they weren't living with it at all, but they are living. Fortunately and un, the number of people dying (in the U.S.) are lowering, but the number of new infections continues to increase.

One day, I believe - I have to - that we will get there. A cure. A better treatment. All of the above.

I've attached video today too.....possibly one of my favourite scenes from Angels in America. I mean, there are so many good ones, but this one has always resonated with me. I apologize for the distracting Dutch subtitles, but I could not find the clip without them. Mary-Louise Parker, my one-time, would-be girlfriend, is brilliant in the movie and the clip.

Song by: Thomas Newman


Birdie said...

What a lovely way to put it: a part within untouched by disease. I see that in most of the people I know, the part that is pure and true, and it is that part I speak to most often. It is filled with hope.

I have never seen this series, since I don't have cable, but I can see it's time to rent the videos.

don said...

I have to go now, I have to get back, something just ah fell apart

rebecca said...

Oh. Tears. Lovely.

Cubby said...

A lovely memorial to your lost friends.

Ur-spo said...

I love this scene; it is one of my favorite scenes in one of my favorite plays.
Did I tell you our dog is named Harper?

Morty said...

I so often think of Mitchell's going away present to you and me. That week in Key West was such a bonding moment for all three of us.

Miss him so....