Not really sure how to start off this entry… I guess in some ways it could be considered to be controversial, but that’s really not my intention. It’s a story about someone I know and love… guess I’ll go from the beginning.
Twenty-five years ago, I met someone when I went on a family trip to Atlanta. He was my cousin Dan’s roommate. It was the first time I’d been to Atlanta, which of course now is a place I love. I was 10 years old at the time. He was the coolest person ever! He and my cousin showed us all over Atlanta. We went to the capital building, Underground Atlanta, though it might have been called something different then, I don’t remember. Went to see my cousin Suzanne and her new baby. Rode the MARTA (their mass transit). Went to Peachtree Street. Went to the mall and had virgin margaritas. He’d throw change down the steps for me and my brother to chase and pick up so we had some extra money to spend. One night we were there we had a dinner party with some of their friends. He fixed spaghetti, with Italian sausages and meatballs. See, he’s Italian. Very authentic. Had garlic bread also, wine for the adults and Coke of course for me and my brother, after all, this is Atlanta. nods Neither me or my brother were treated like we were annoyances or were interfering with a good time. It was great! First grown up dinner party. That was a big deal for someone who just 10 years old. Went to see where he worked at CNN. We went to the Marriott Hotel downtown to ride the glass elevator. Just some of the things that we all did.
He’s from Boston. I love Boston and that gave us something else in common. He went to Boston University, which was where I wanted to go to school. He wasn’t just my cousin’s “roommate”, he was also family. Also, by this time, I knew that he really was my cousin’s partner. He was still such a cool person. Fun to be around. Always out there. Very much Italian. LOL.
Somewhere along the way… he contracted HIV. How he contracted it doesn’t matter. When he was first diagnosed, they told him he would not live to see his 50th birthday. That was 3 years ago, yet he is still here. He isn’t doing well. His status is full-blown AIDS now. He has very little use of his arms. But he is still here. His family refuses to help him at all… because he “chose to live that kind of life so he can pay for it” so… that’s why I ask… humanity, where are you? Why is it that those who are supposed to love you no matter what are so frequently the ones who will abandon you when you most need them? That’s your son. Your brother. Your uncle. Your nephew. Your cousin. It was okay to love him when he was healthy. It was okay to love him when he didn’t look sick. Why can’t you love him NOW when he needs the support and love the most of all? Where along the way did him having AIDS make him not worthy of your love and support? I cannot imagine the pain of knowing that in my own hour of need not having the support of those closest to me. Just to be there. As if dying from such a horrible disease process isn’t cruel enough, no matter how he got it. This is only one of the reasons I have for support of marriage equality. How nice it would be if he could have married into a family like mine, which even though there is not a marriage certificate, loves him as family. Who are supportive of him and love him. Who can’t replace the loss of his family, even though they are choosing to alienate him and banish him because he’s gay and has AIDS. It breaks my heart.
Someday he will be a statistic. Hopefully it will be a long time from now, but the odds definitely aren’t in his favor. The CDC says an estimated 15,529 people with an AIDS diagnosis died in 2010. Though not all are directly related to the diagnosis. Males having sex with other males is the most predominant group with new infections yearly. If roughly 15,000 of those deaths are directly related to HIV/AIDS, that’s 41 deaths per DAY. But my friend… he’s so much more than that. That won’t be what I remember about him.
I’ll remember all the stuff from my Atlanta trip. I’ll remember the good times at the family reunions. Hanging out for dinner at The Collonade. Drinking Long Island Iced Tea’s at Longhorn. The conversations over the years. Taking him to the airport to catch his flight back home after a business trip here. Him coming to the pool hall and discussing his meatball recipe. That’s the legacy that he will leave behind when that time comes. If you take absolutely nothing else from this entry… please take one thing with you…His name is Jim, and he matters. He isn’t a number, a percentage, or just a statistic in the AIDS epidemic. He is my friend. He is loved. He is important. He’s a human being, and no less deserving of love and respect than any of us.
I wrote this over a year ago. Since I wrote this… Jim and my cousin were married.
Jim passed away on October 16. It wasn’t AIDS that got him, it’s was the ALS (aka Lou Gehrig’s Disease). But I always think of him on this day. This is the first year I’ve thought of him in remembrance instead of the concern and love for someone alive. It’s harder than I thought it would be. But… I wanted to share his story. His love for life. Always missed… and loved… gone, but stays in my heart.
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