Ted Kennedy Tribute: 2008 DNC Convention in Denver
Over the din of commentators, warming their robotic hands against the barely dead Ted Kennedy, and please read this report on his pioneering political fights against AIDS, I have been trying to remember the 1980s with a little more precision than is usually called for.
See thanks to Facebook a friend of twenty or more years ago whom I had given up for dead, and the feeling was apparently mutual, sent me a note and got me caught up to speed very succinctly.
When we last spoke he was living in London, having split up there with the man he had met when we both lived in St. Catharines. He then had another loving relationship with a guy in London, who became very ill, and they moved out of London so he could be closer to his family in the country. He died there close to their tenth anniversary together.
Perry, my friend, moved back to St. Catharines where he could begin to recover from his terrible loss among friends and family members.
Fast forward a few years and, having almost resigned himself to being single, he met Joe. After a long courtship, which included Joe moving from out of town, Perry and Joe were married at a United Church in St. Catharines. Ah, the United Church, which brought me to the subject of my brother. (There’s so much to try and recall from twenty-odd years but, of course, I had the lowlights – my accident, Craig’s death, etc.)
I’ve even hinted at possibly participating in Perry’s local AIDS walk in September. I had not planned to do so here – not for any particular reason – and it would be a terrific way to get caught up in person.
Things I have avoided, not just while writing today but for several weeks, are my mood diaries (that’s an over-simplification) and thinking about and naming some of my deepest desires which, I am the first to admit, I have too long covered over with fear wrapped in bacon and rationalizations.
Well it is time to either get on with it or get some shut-eye before the first signs of sunrise appear.
Merde, il pleut!