Roberto's openly gay friend, Aiden, who had battled valiantly with AIDS, finally loses his battle and dies.
I have received some terrible news today, and I am still reeling from the shock of it.
My friend, Aiden Rance Crabtree, who had AIDS, died yesterday. He was only 30 years old. He became infected with AIDS when he had sex with a man who had AIDS (only the guy didn't tell him that). He had worked in a factory, but then he became sick, and when it was discovered that Aiden had AIDS, the boss unfairly fired him; and he had to then go onto total disability. He had AIDS for over a year now; and it really changed his life (and the lives of those who knew him, including myself). He became lonely, withdrawn, and depressed; and when I met him, he was obviously suffering. He was so thin, and my heart ached at the sight of his wasted body and the pain clearly seen in his eyes. He was embarrassed to be seen in public, and he was ashamed that he had put his family and friends through so much grief. His family had abandoned him when they found out that he had AIDS, and most of his friends did, too. I was the only one who had stuck by him through his illness, and I had seen him last week at the hospital. He had been admitted with a particularly nasty pneumonia bug, and I knew when I saw him that death was close at hand. He barely stirred when I was in the room, and he was hooked up to a breathing machine because his lungs were so damaged and weak from the pneumonia and cancers raging through his frail body.
(Aiden used to live with his lover, but when he became sick, he went to a home for AIDS patients, and this was where he lived.)
M'buti, my wife, knew him only through me, and she only had met him a few times. She liked him, but she felt nervous being around him because she was afraid that she would "catch" AIDS from him; but I told her that she couldn't catch it, and not to worry. I guess M'buti felt this way because in Africa, so many people have AIDS, and she was afraid that she would get it if she came into close contact with Aiden. She was always so relieved when Aiden would go home.
Yesterday, his lover, John, called, and he was the one who had told me that Aiden had died. At the news, I cried; I had loved Aiden like the brother I never had, and he was always so much fun. He had a wild personality (like me), and he was always on the lookout for fun and adventure. He loved to go to sporting events, and he loved going to the bars every weekend; and he also loved going out on the lake to go fishing. But then he became sick, and his activities severely became curtailed because he was often so weakened. He would then go into the hospital for bouts of pneumonia, or to get cancerous lesions removed; and he would also have to endure many hours of painful chemotherapy treatments that left him sapped and severely nauseated.
Toward the end of his life, John, Aiden, and I would go to the bar, to visit, and he was so frail he needed a wheelchair to get around; walking became too much of an effort for him; and he would fall often if he wasn't in his wheelchair. We would do this a couple times every month, just to spend time together. Even though John and Aiden were openly gay and I was straight, I still felt comfortable with them, and I enjoyed their company. They were both kind, compassionate, and caring men, and they loved life and lived it to the very fullest between the times Aiden was in the hospital. When Aiden was sick and in the hospital, I would make it a point to go and see him. Of course, when Aiden was in the hospital, John was always there, and he refused to leave his friend's side.
Now Aiden is gone, and I am incredibly sad. Life had dealt him a cruel blow, and people treated him wrong because he had contracted a deadly disease that was beyond his control, and once he got it, nothing could really be done except give him a few more months of life and happiness. His family had abandoned him, and other than John, M'buti, or myself (or even Louisiana; she had cared for him a few times when he was in the hospital), he had nobody; he was otherwise alone and friendless.
I will have to take some time off from work so I can go to the funeral once the final arrangements are made.
~To be continued.~
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Reviewed by Robert Blackwell
10/2/2003
Very heart-rending tale, Karen. You do a wonderful job of capturing these feelings.
Rovella is a beautiful woman with a cold heart whom blames herself for an unfortunate old family secret that is literally ruining her life. This secret impedes a gorgeous woman from having happiness in her childhood, and throughout her life. Dark sec
