This is not a political diary, and perhaps has no place here...but what we went through...
Would have been easier if a Republican president had mentioned the word "Aids" before 1985.
Would have been easier if four pharmaceutical corporations (not the kind of 'people' I'd invite to my house) had cleaned up their processing of factor VIII for hemophillia 24 months earlier than they did.
Would have been less crazy expensive if we'd been able to work out something like the Affordable Care Act back then.
And he might still be here. He died two years before protease inhibitors became available.
When I hear conservatives ready to change Medicare into a voucher, Medicaid into block grants...It's not just the impact on me, today, that I'm thinking about...It's what it would have done to him. Follow below the decoration.
So, now this is the tough one. Every September 5th, over at my personal blog I have to say something about my marriage.
But, the twenty fifth anniversary is a marker and a milestone and a big deal and he's not here anymore, dammit, so, yeah I dragged it over here. I still can't believe it's been 25 years since we walked down the aisle in shoes that were way too tight. Since we said those vows...although he did make a mistake and say my side of the vow instead. Which he steadfastly denied. Until he saw the video...then he called up the minister who married us and asked "Are we legal?"
"Son," the minister replied, "you could have been talking about zebras up there, but I signed the license and that's the important thing." He was relieved.
As another way to honor my late husband, …here are some of the things I loved best about him, the things I miss most about him…the good stuff.
His hard work at difficult academic subjects (Hebrew and Greek translation, for example.) A kind of ‘push your head all night until you understand it’ study ethic.
His rather relentlessly positive joie de vivre, that dragged me out of my usual gloom an’ doom emotional climate many many times.
His cheerful agreement with me that fiction, especially science fiction (and in his case the DC comic universe), was better than reality.
His intense and obvious loyalty to me, a heavyset woman with disabilities. Able bodied strangers, able bodied ex girlfriends, other women with disabilities had occasion to throw themselves at him, and he would, again and again, insist that he was spoken for, ‘taken,’ and that was the end of that.
He would immediately ‘fess up,’ about these little encounters, and I found that endearing as well…I mean if nothing happened there was nothing to ‘fess up to, right? :) Very cute. There are so many relationships that cannot claim that sort of fidelity any more. Bravo, my dearest.
His defense of me against my alcoholic father.
His physical and emotional closeness to me during a brief medical crisis when I wasn’t competent. His essential assistance holding onto me and holding me still in the middle of a damn spinal tap…it kind of exemplified how important his support and expertise were to me all during serious medical issues of my own, regarding my Hodgkin’s Lymphoma, etc.
His (learned behavior) of often dangerous persistence at working, at pulling down a paycheck when there was no protocol to stall HIV/AIDs, and while he worked, it worked at him.
A good friend of ours described the framework of our marriage as sacrificial. He was right, in a way, but it surely wasn’t on purpose out of some noble ideal. Life suddenly forced us into almost daily sacrifices for each other that we normally would not have made, being a bit too mouthy and concerned with fun to have been naturally self sacrificing.
But we often rose to the occasion and did the things that had to be done for the other, either the simple practical things, or complex mental gymnastics in order to set up what was best for each other rather than what was best for ourselves.
And just as often, we failed to be patient or kind or forgiving.
We were being assaulted by my Hodgkin’s Lymphoma and his HIV at the same time and unfortunately took a lot out on each other.
And there aren’t the right words available to describe the two most important things, so I’ll use the words I’ve got.
1. The end times bravery. What he was able to endure in physical pain, in physical separation, in loss of function, of fighting for every scrap of that sharp mind even as pathways through it were being taken away from him.
2. And the connection we had. The finish each other’s sentences thing. The weak in the knees thing. The private language. The intimacy. How it felt to get a hug…
And yes, his conspiratorial glee in sneaking off to have a good time.
For all of these things, I appreciated him then, and honor him now.
My time clock has changed, since this time last year. The odds are it won’t be as long a time as I thought ’till I see him.
I have work to do yet…and perhaps less time to do it.
The important thing about that is it’s forcing me to recommit to something my marriage taught me about quality time with people we love, and not to waste it.
If there’s someone you love and you’re already with them, tell them how great they are today.
More importantly, if there’s someone you love…that you’ve never told, or never admitted to, or never took the risk of telling them or trying a relationship.
For goodness sake, time is passing. hurry up and take that dare. Because you might not have the opportunity tomorrow.
And to my husband…abide in my heart yet awhile… stand still at my left shoulder, behind me, just out of my field of vision, that place that somehow, I feel you’re still standing, and have always been right there… since you left….for you it’s just a moment from when you left til when you see me again….I’ll be by.