And the only measure of your words and your deeds will be the love you leave behind when you're gone

[chronicpaint]

Frank was one of those men that everyone envied. Handsome, muscular, with wavy blond hair and a genuinely kind personality. The kind of man who could let you down so gently that you couldn't feel rejected at all. I never knew him as well as some, but he was a part of my landscape like an historic landmark or a star to steer by. He was there in the community when I came out and I would see him regularly. He always greeted me and gave me a kiss hello.

The end came in the mid nineties and came back from wherever he had been living. I kept tabs through Kim, one of my close friends who was close to him.

AIDS had never touched my world, except in the abstract. I resisted going to see him, but went with Kim and another friend. Frank was a ghost, a shadow of himself. I'm not sure how much he even recognized us.

I found out he died at one of my Sunday brunches. We toasted his life and smiled at how he had touched our lives.

I don't remember whose idea it was to create a panel for the NAMES Quilt, but the Quilt was coming to Saskatoon, so we took the opportunity. Several of us sat down and brainstormed the ideas. Black and Silver because, as a child of the eighties, they were his favourite colours. We decided it should be his coat of arms. It had crossed scissors (he cut hair) and a barbell. We added a CD, a coffee cup and a motto: "Carpe Juvenem" (Sieze the boy) We found a panel of faux leather and made a panel that his friends could sign and kept it at the gay cafe where I was working. By the time we went to add it to the Quilt panel, it was full. I remember holding Kevin as he cried after signing it.

I volunteered for the display of the Quilt and I remember being stunned when they asked me to be an Emotional Support person and Volunteer Coordinator. It was an honour.

The day of the opening ceremonies, I assisted with the opening of the panels, which were in place, but folded. Every ceremony begins that way, with volunteers unfolding the squares, once, then twice to reveal the images on them.

I remember one woman in tears, and sitting with her, just listening.

I remember reading the names of the dead, over the microphone as was done every hour.

And the closing ceremonies, where Dik and I presented Frank's panel to be added. When we were done, we held each other, weeping torrents. Jeff, the organizer of the event, came and hugged us both, saying "Thank you for your gift"

Dik wanted to present more of the panels, but I couldn't. I was spent.

Months later, Jeff brought me a photo of the panel, stitched into its square and on display.

I haven't thought of this in so long. So many details are gone, but the ones that matter are still there and I'm welling up just writing this.

We miss you, Frank. And you too, Tom. And Glen. And DJ Tom.


"The stars we put in place
The dreams we didn't waste
The sorrows we embraced
The world belonged to you and me
The oceans that we crossed
The innocence we've lost
The hurting at the end
I'd go there again,
'cause it was beautiful.
It was beautiful."

Comments

[monkeyman.livejournal.com]

*hugs you hard*

[chronicpaint.livejournal.com]

Thanks, Deej :)

[jawnbc]

Thanks for this.

[chronicpaint.livejournal.com]

Thanks for reading it :) Big hugs

[gorkabear.livejournal.com]

A story that touched me.
Today I'm getting lots of touches, yes. But you got me with this one.
*hug*

[chronicpaint.livejournal.com]

There are many of these touches to be had today. And I'm treasuring every one of them.

[sorenr.livejournal.com]

Goddammit, now you made me cry.

Lovely entry...

[chronicpaint.livejournal.com]

Waterproof mascara. It's the only way. If I hadn't been at work when I wrote it, I would have bawled.

[ciddyguy.livejournal.com]

A touching tribute to friends who died of an awful desease.

I know several people who are poz and while we all can live with it now for years, the fact that so many are still being exposed says the work is not done - yet and what's even sadder is there are those who don't seem to care.

Hugs.

[chronicpaint.livejournal.com]

I was thinking this morning that by making the disease manageable, we've removed it somewhat from the public eye. But sadly, it has drifted out of much of the public consciousness for a while now.

We have to hold the torch.

Big hugs

[ciddyguy.livejournal.com]

Indeed and we do need to remind all that this desease is by no means cured and that is by no means mean it's OK to not take risks when boinking someone.

[chronicpaint.livejournal.com]

Amen

[paterson-si.livejournal.com]

You are such a good man............

[chronicpaint.livejournal.com]

Thank you. I can't think of a greater compliment you could pay me

Oh, and it takes one to know one ;)

[paterson-si.livejournal.com]

HUGS, S! :)

Many of them.

[chronicpaint.livejournal.com]

Thank you, sweetie :)

[bdouville.livejournal.com]

Thanks for sharing this. It seems that a lot of gays under 30 (at least some of those I know through the Internet) really lack empathy on this issue -- as long as it doesn't affect them personally. For those of us that came out in the 1980s, who watched people around us get sick and die...well, we feel empathy. Maybe I'm generalizing a bit, but when you discover that people you were sexually involved with are now HIV-positive (and at least one of them died in the 1990s), and you are HIV-negative and alive and healthy, you feel as though you dodged a bullet. You feel grateful that you came out in the 1980s when HIV awareness and safe-sex education were an inescapable fact of the gay community. And you feel empathy for those who still live with the challenges of HIV and AIDS.

I am *so* making "Carpe Juvenem" my new motto. :)

Cheers,

Bruce

[chronicpaint.livejournal.com]

Even for those of us who were there and grew up with it, it has faded from our consciousness to a degree.

And Frank would be proud to share his motto with you ;)

[tilia-tomentosa.livejournal.com]

Powerful and touching!

I jumped here from gorkabear's journal to read this. Thank you for leaving it public.

Darina

[chronicpaint.livejournal.com]

Welcome. Stop by any time :)