“I feel alive again, Matt.”
Amazing. This 50 year-old man who’d been to hell and back on so many levels was glowing. Grinning from ear to ear in person and in the photos taken with his new love. Wearing shorts, looking like an excited boy on the beach. Another photo caught him smiling in his sleep as he snuggled against the chest of the man who was holding the camera at arm’s length.
Last week, he and I sat and talked for hours about the changes in his life. How wonderful to see him bursting with life and joy after living with AIDS- defining conditions for 15 years.
I remember the first time I formally met Rich. It was 1994, and he had helped me plan a friend’s memorial service. Although I had seen him around town, this was my first experience watching him in action. His ability to organize, to make connections among the various sectors of our friend’s life was amazing. At the same time, it was odd to see someone so self – aware be so “shut down” about his own situation. Did he really think that no one noticed the lesions at his collar line, only slightly obscured by liquid concealer? Hello? Does anybody wanna talk about the elephant in the living room?
My next interaction with him was more professional, when he came to me for assistance filing his disability claim. Even at that time, he was still trying to conceal lesions, still trying not to discuss in depth what was happening to him. Despite some initial problems communicating, we soon began to work well together. I was able to watch as he took his first steps toward aggressive treatment of his conditions.
When the chemo caused him to lose most of his hair, I went with him to look for hats. I soon found that he hated wearing them, yet he was nervous about people’s reaction to his near-baldness. I said, “F**k, ‘em, Rich... who cares what people think?” Shortly thereafter, I saw him out and about, head uncovered. “It’s not so bad,” he said, “better than wearing a goddamn hat covering up what everybody knows ain’t there anyway.” (for the record, his hair grew back as thick, wavy, and brown as before... without a strand of gray and with the hairline of a twenty year-old… the bitch! :) ) Not too long after that, he started wearing shorts in the summer again. “When people stare too much, I strike a “leg model” pose and tell ‘em to make sure they get a good look” at the KS lesions spread over his calves.
Rich is a free-lance writer. Once his disability claim was approved, he began to write prolifically about that “elephant”. I think that writing about HIV and AIDS from a treatment and social perspective helped him to be able to face some of his own fears, but Rich wanted to do more.
As someone who chose to continue working to supplement his income while receiving Disability, he found there was almost no information out there to tell him how to do that and retain his benefits. After educating himself, he decided it was time to help others. He founded an organization with the mission of helping people with AIDS return to work if they chose. To date, this organization has helped many people return to some level of employment, or allowed people who were never gainfully employed get their first job, yet still legally maintain their Social Security Disability benefits.
I guess the point I’m trying to make is this: Now more than ever, people with AIDS/HIV can still give, still learn, and can continue to flourish. This is what I choose to remember today…because I’ve cried long enough.
Posted by Mattee @ 12:58 AM EDT [Link] [No Comments]
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