World AIDS Day and my Daddy

Today is World AIDS Day. It has always been a difficult day for me. Today I decided instead of being sad I would do things that would bring honor to my Dad and his memory. He was an amazing man. Full of love and compassion for all people. My Dad was my best friend. I wish all my children had the privilege of knowing him. He loved Dominique and my nephew Alexander more than anything! When we learned he had AIDS it was during a time period where little was known and people were very ignorant and judgmental and very afraid. It was difficult to be able to go anywhere. The fears of those around us were so great. once, I was asked to leave a church because the pastor knew about my father and thought Dominique and I would infect his congregation just by sitting in the pew. I had a hard time finding a preschool for Dominique because people were afraid They would "catch" it from us. There were some really amazing people in our lives then that carried us through the toughest times. They continued to love us no matter what and made keeping Daddy home with us easier. My best friend from high school Joslyn and her mom(Mommee). My Otter Mother, Brenda. These women were pillars of strength and love to me. Giving me a safe place to cry, scream, and dream. And Brad....words could never express the courage and strength I gained from Brad throughout the years of Dads illness. I could never begin to have the abuility to repay all I owe Brad. They loved Dominique as if he were their grandson and I am forever grateful to all they poured into our lives. They were never afraid to help to love to hold to pray...no matter what they were always there!

I remember a time when we knew Daddy was getting really ill and he insisted I try and find a hospice for him to go to so he would not be a burden to me. I would not hear of it. He belonged at home with people who loved him. We had home health services, some better than others. One health aid stole our check book and waited until the disability check had been deposited and then wiped out the account. But his nurse came every day without fail. She not only took care of his medical needs but she would sit with him and drink coffee and talk about family and the weather. I remember him thanking her one day for not being afraid to hug him or touch his hand. It got to the point that we refused to take him to the hospital because the nurses and food service people would not go in his room. I would have to clean his room and feed him while he was in the hospital. I could take better care of him at home. And so I checked him out, brought him home.

My brother Nathan was still in high school and I often think what a horrible way to spend your highschool years. How awful it was for him going to school everyday not knowing if his dad would still be alive when he walked in the door after school. Nathan was a champ through the entire time. I know it was hard for him but he never complained and always helped or just sat with dad to keep him company.

Before he got too ill, Daddy and I were a part of a speakers forum. We traveled to colleges, churches, seminaries, hospitals. any one who would book us. And we told our story. Dad from his wheel chair with Dominique perched on his lap (Pappas stroller) and me. We told our story. He always told the parable of the Good Samaritan at the end of his speech....I always told of how proud I was to have a Daddy so full of love and compassion and courage. He helped create a panel for the national AIDS quilt in his name. I never had the opportunity to see the quilt again after we admitted his panel. I am not even sure I know where the quilt is today. On display somewhere special I hope.

I remember the last couple months of his life were so hard. He was so ill, fading away, in horrific pain. I remember pleading with God to please end his misery. Then the night he died I walked into his room and I knew. The battle was over. I was completely overcome. All alone, Dominique was spending the night at a friends house. Nathan was still at work and my sister had moved out months ago...all alone in the dimly lit room...I screamed and cried. I climbed onto the bed and begged him to come back. The scene had to have been worse than any made for TV movie. Pitiful I was. I always thought in the weeks before that I would  feel relief. funny thing is that relief has never come. After heaven only knows how long of lying there, crying, holding onto him. I got up called my siblings, and my Grandmother. And Mommee came and she sat with me all night and she stayed with us all day the next day. And somehow we managed to make it through the memorial service. Strange how a man can touch so many lives in his life time yet in his death the fears of his illness kept people away. Brad went with me to pick up Daddys ashes. I tripped on the sidewalk and nearly dropped him. I had visions of his ashes blowing in the wind...

I see my Dad in the faces of my children. I hear him in their laughter. I see his compassion in their hearts...he would be so proud of all his grand children!

Today I am thinking of all the wonderful memories I was blessed with by a Daddy who loved his children more than he loved life itself. I can only hope that my life has half the impact on those around me that his had on those around him. Heaven gained an amazing man June 10, 1993.

And I really miss him...

one day I will write the story of his life....it truly is a story that needs to be told....