The Day After

Having spent several weeks talking about World AIDS Day, it seems right that I share how I spent my time on December 1.

One of the things I will always admire about Houston is that it responded early and forcefully to the AIDS pandemic. Our city, like NYC, LA, and San Francisco, lost many of its most passionate activists to AIDS. Our city, like those cities, struggles against indifference, carelessness, fear, prejudice, and a false sense of security among groups at highest risk for HIV infection. Yet Houstonians still keep fighting the fight, speaking for the marginalized, caring for the ill, and memorializing the dead.

Yesterday, I was privleged to spend time with some of these Houstonians or see the things they’re doing to make a difference.

My first stop of the day was the Center for AIDS. My plan was to go in, sign a memorial book, and leave. When I walked in, I was greeted warmly by Bernie, introduced to other members of the amazing and friendly staff, shown around the center’s lobby, given free gifts (presents!), and taken to a room where I was introduced to other people who’d just dropped by. They were sitting around a table that was covered with scrapbooking materials–pens, scissors, glue, stencils, paper–all provided for anyone who came in to make a memorial page to add to the Center’s memorial book. It rests close to the front door with a candle always lit next to it.

We were strangers when we sat down at that table, but by the time we left, we felt like friends. As we made pages to celebrate people lost to AIDS or who are living with HIV/AIDS, we talked about everything imaginable–yes, even the hot topics: religion, politics, and sex. It was great! While we were talking and working, we were provided a catered lunch by the Center, which no one had expected. It was SO GOOD–pasta, salad, herbal bread, decadent dessert. You can bet I’ll be going back to the Center to finish my memorial page and keep up with the wonderful work they’re doing.

David with Bernie, the Center’s Education and Outreach Manager

Clover and Xena (I promised I’d call Karen that!)

Sharon

Natalie and me

I missed getting a photo of Van, who had to leave because of commitments to the Gay Men’s Chorus of Houston.

When I left CFA, I decided to stop by Covenant Church. I was too early for their planned activities, but my real purpose in going was to see the Names Quilt panels they had on display. The AIDS Quilt will always be near and dear to my heart. I have so many stories about the Quilt and all that it has meant to Tom and me. (Tom was a Quilt volunteer for several years.) The Quilt remains not only a beautiful memorial, but an eloquent means of reaching into the hearts of people worldwide to raise awareness of the cost of HIV/AIDS.

This panel I found particularly moving:

We all know the value of the companion animals in our lives. People who are struggling with illness often find the financial burden of their pets to be overwhelming. Pet Patrol understands that animals are an important part of people’s health, so they help alleviate that financial burden with vet care, food and supplies, and animal foster care, among other services. I know firsthand the value of this group, because when Steve R. was sick, Pet Patrol helped keep his cats in good condition. Maggie and Emily were a vital part of keeping Steve in good spirits, and thanks to Pet Patrol, he never had to worry about stretching his limited income to pay for their vet care.

I have included more Quilt panels at the end of this post. They are a good reminder that AIDS respects no one. People of faith die from the disease, but people of faith also survive and mourn those lost and create memorials to them. We’re all in this together, no matter what our spiritual beliefs are.

I made a more personal stop at Houston’s Glenwood Cemetery. I know I have talked about this cemetery before. Famous people are buried here (e.g., Howard Hughes, Gene Tierney), but its appeal is its natural beauty of rolling hills and live oaks, the interesting array of grave markers, and the peace it offers in the middle of a busy urban area.

My friend Tim R. is buried here. Tim was one of those people of faith who made a difference by openly discussing his experiences as a gay man with AIDS with the members of his church. I left this plaque on his grave many years ago, and his family still places it among the beautiful flowers they plant at Tim’s gravesite every season.

Lindsey met me after she left work, and we went together to the Montrose Counseling Center for their candlelight vigil. MCC had just finished installing a gift from an artist: twenty-five panels, each representing one year in the twenty-five year story of AIDS in the U.S. I will post about this again in the future when I get more information on the artist, and when I have better photos of the various panels.

Lindsey viewing the installation.

There were more people at the vigil than I expected, considering the number of activities the city offered to commemorate World AIDS Day. People were invited to say anything they wanted about the people lost to AIDS, those living with HIV, the caregivers, medical community, and volunteers who help those with HIV/AIDS, and how we need to continue to educate and inform others, especially young people, about the realities of HIV and AIDS. Very moving. Lots of tears. Beautiful sense of community.

Chain of names of people lost to AIDS.

I’m glad the world takes one day a year to acknowledge the human cost of HIV/AIDS, but it’s a reality that is with us the other 364 days, too. YOU CAN MAKE A DIFFERENCE. Whether it’s following the guidelines that prevent the disease–safer and protected sex, no needle sharing, being tested, being honest with your partners, educating others, SPEAKING OUT and ACTING UP, donating time and/or money, and just giving a damn–everyone has the power to do something.

Thanks for sharing the day with me.

More NAMES AIDS Quilt Panels…