In November, I received an invite to attend a viewing of the Aids Quilt on Dec. 1, World Aids Day, at a local church. I have never seen the quilt IRL, as the kids say, and I was rather looking forward to it. In the intervening weeks I had somehow forgotten exactly which venue would be hosting the quilt and wound up instead attending the annual reading of the names of those who have died of AIDS/HIV-related causes. That event also took place on World Aids Day, but at the National Aids Memorial Grove within Golden Gate Park. When I arrived to the park at sunset and saw what was a wall of images of Aids Quilt panels instead of the quilt itself, I figured I had goofed. But the Grove was illuminated in such an alluring way and there were lanterns and candles set along the footpaths and a harpist sat amongst the redwoods playing a Lionel Richie song, so I was keen to stay and experience the evening.
The CEO of the National Aids Memorial Grove, John Cunningham, and a couple of speakers began the event by sharing movingly about the AIDS--then known as 'gay cancer'--epidemic that swept San Francisco and the Bay Area in the mid-80s. Then visitors to the Grove were invited to come up on stage and read names. A handful of attendees very quickly lined up stage right. I hadn't felt comfortable doing so myself--I figured I would cry and bungle it--, but then a woman standing with her partner just next to me walked toward the stage. I turned to her partner and asked, 'Is she going to read?' He told me she was and I said, 'Well, if she can do it, then I can do it.' We smiled at each other before I made my way to the stage through the small crowed that had assembled to listen.
As I stood waiting my turn, a man from the event organizing committee kindly acknowledged me. He thanked me for going up to read and I told him that I was feeling both sad and nervous at the prospect. He then gave me a warm side hug and said that that was OK. His hug and warm words made me feel less anxious. At the end of my reading I added a name to the list: Gerald 'Scotty' Batz, my beloved Uncle.
John Cunningham, CEO of Nat'l Aids Memorial, kicks off the evening |
Thank you for for your courage.
ReplyDeleteI am sure that my eyes would have been leaking. Copiously.
I'm glad to have been there.
DeleteWell done Bea. This dreadful disease has been very much overlooked during the covid pandemic. Because of pressure on the health services, I imagine that some sufferers have not received the same level of care they otherwise would.
ReplyDeleteYes, I should think so.
DeleteGood for you, Bea! An important event. We must not forget the suffering of that time in our history.
ReplyDeleteIt was very moving to speak the names of the men and women who died. (And, sadly, still are dying.)
DeleteA beautiful remembering
ReplyDeleteIt was.
DeleteVery brave. I doubt I could have gone up there. I'm sure I would have bawled the whole time.
ReplyDeleteYeah, I hear you. For me it was: name, sniff, name, sniff, name...
DeleteFabulous blog
ReplyDeleteDear Bea, I found this posting so poignant and so filled with hope because we truly--all of us, humankind and animals and plants--are One. Back in the late '80s, I volunteered once a week to work at the AIDS clinic at the local hospital. I met many men who became friends and who later went from being HIV-positive to having full-blown AIDS.
ReplyDeleteIn the three years, before by "burnout," I went to 34 memorial services/funerals and often, as you did, felt prompted to speak of the sweetness of someone who had died or the fortitude or fierce determination or generosity of spirit. I met so many beautiful human beings during those three years.
I'm so glad you felt prompted to go up and read names and add your uncle's to the list. Peace.
Hi, Dee. It sounds as if you were right in the thick of it back then. What an incredibly sad time that must have been for you. -so many memorials and funerals...
Deletex Bea
Yes, but so many inspiring young men who shared with me their thoughts on life and living . . . and dying. Peace.
DeleteA lovely post with lots of lovely photos. I am glad you got up there and spoke. Well done.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Mr. Shife!
DeleteMerry Christmas and Happy New Year, Bea.
DeleteYou, too, bud!
DeleteWhat a beautiful event. Maybe you didn't make a mistake, maybe you were meant to be there. Beautiful pictures as well.
ReplyDeleteSandy's Space
Sandy: Yes, it was. And maybe I was meant to be there!
DeleteTake care, Bea
Glad you could feel comfortable speaking there. Striking photos.
ReplyDeleteThe place looked so lovely lit up at night. I was glad to be there.
DeleteMaking blog rounds, thought I'd say hi.
ReplyDeleteSandy's Space
Hi! I'll pop over to visit soon.
DeleteHope your Christmas Day special.
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