I remember it as though it were yesterday. I was sitting on my living room couch reading an article in TIME magazine, when I glanced at the clock only to discover it was 5 minutes after the time I was to be at a friends’ house cleaning. I sat for a moment contemplating what I should do. Being a responsible person, my first idea was to get up and get moving. It was a 20 minute drive to his house and by the time I got there and got things ready to start cleaning, it would be 45 minutes later. I thought for a minute. Is there anything else I have to do today? Nope. Well, that answered my first thought. I decided to sit back and continue to read the article I started.
I’m not even sure what caught my attention in the first place, but I appeared to be struck by something I read relative to the subject of the article. A subject matter I usually didn’t concern myself with because it depressed me when I thought of all the people throughout the world who were affected by it. But this particular day I couldn’t put the magazine down and once I finished, and for another unknown reason, went back and read it again. Once I completed my second round of reading, I knew I had to get moving.
To get moving to clean is something that has plagued me all my life. Now, don’t get me wrong, I do clean, I just don’t like to clean; and the realization that for the next 4 hours I would be cleaning the house of a man who had an unbelievable collection of lanterns wasn’t my idea of cleaning. It was pure torture. To remove every glass top and then wash it in the sink, and dust each and every base with a special cleaner to me was excruciatingly painful. And, on top of that, he had beautiful hardwood floors in the living room area of his home, which needed to be cleaned and waxed once a month…And, guess what, this was that once a month day!!! In spite of all the extreme suffering cleaning his house, (ummmm, I mean lanterns) would cause me, I had to remember, he was kind enough to offer this opportunity as I was between jobs, therefore, needing the money, I really had to get a grip and suffer on!! So, I got into my car, and off I went to my buddy’s house.
My buddy David I had the great fortune to meet 18 years prior when we both belonged to a local theatre company. He was one of the funniest, most intelligent and indescribably witty individuals I had ever met, but also one of the most stubborn. For some reason, we clicked right from the start, although, we were so completely opposite it didn’t make sense. But, we were drawn to each other, and once our friendship began, it continued to grow over the years.
David had been previously married, but in his quest to find himself, began a new life about a year after I met him. His new life included his obtaining additional education, which afforded him the opportunity to gain a position as a Professor at a local college teaching of all things, English and Communications. On this particular day, David had one of his long days teaching, so I knew I had time to complete all the chores I needed to get done before he arrived home.
As I walked into his house, I remember giggling to myself as I looked around. David’s home was forever immaculate with everything in its place. I always got the impression that on the days I was to clean, there was really no reason he should have me there to clean. But then I’d remember those damn lanterns! Knowing David as I did, I knew he got a sadistic pleasure out of my hatred for cleaning those lanterns, and it most likely created a wittingly, comedic routine to share with his office mate at the college on those days!
I knew the hour David would be home, therefore, I had to get started right away in order to finish on time. I began my routine by getting the bathroom, bedrooms, kitchen, living room, and wood floors done first. Then, drudgingly, I pulled every, single, blasted one of those lanterns down off the shelf that extended above his kitchen from one end of the room to the other. I removed each globe and placed them to soak in the kitchen sink. I dusted each base using the special cleaning agent David purchased for some ungodly amount of money, and once that was complete, I washed each globe that had by this time been soaking for about one half hour. Because I knew David would freak if he even saw one streak on a globe, I washed, let dry, and wiped away any evidence of anything that resembled a streak. Then with a heavy sigh, I placed each one of the lanterns back where they belonged. At this point, I was tired, sweaty and hungry.
Who knew cleaning lanterns could work up such an appetite, but at this point, I was in need of some nourishment and decided to raid David’s refrigerator. He always had lots of goodies and I checked inside the “frig” thoroughly before I decided to make a turkey and cheese sandwich. I pulled out the turkey and cheese, and of course real butter, which I don’t have at my house and l-o-v-e!! I grabbed the bread, a knife and I was off and running. Oops, I forgot something. I can’t eat a turkey sandwich without mayonnaise and mustard, so I went back to the refrigerator to get these much needed items. As I opened up the refrigerator, I realized the mayo and mustard were not in the usual spot. As I looked around, I saw they were placed on the shelf inside the door. As I went to remove the mustard, I noticed a very large bottle right next to it. Being the nosey type, I pulled out the bottle and read what it said. What I read on that bottle stopped me dead in my tracks, and changed my life forever.
I was aware David had not felt well over a year before, and because he was so darn stubborn, had not gone to the doctor’s until the point he wasn’t able to breathe. At the time, it was discovered he had pneumonia and after a few days in the hospital he was released. He appeared to get better quickly, but I had noticed he did lose quite a bit of weight. It was during this time that for a brief second, a thought crossed my mind, but I quickly dismissed it and life continued as normal. Normal that is, until I opened David’s refrigerator and read the label, which clearly and boldly displayed the name of the medication, Ribavirin.
Ribavirin. I had never even heard of this medication until that very morning when sitting on my couch, I read an article in TIME magazine. This particular drug was in the experimental stages, but was created to slow the deadly effects of a disease that attacked a person’s immune system. As I read the name Ribavirin on the label of the big bottle inside the refrigerator, the realization that he, who almost 19 years prior embarked on a new life living as the gay person he fought to keep inside, was dying of AIDS.
Oh my God! David would be home within one half hour, and my eyes were swollen and red from crying for the past 20 minutes. I had to pull myself together because I certainly didn’t want him to know that I knew his secret. Off to the bathroom I ran and threw cold water on my face, while at the same time telling myself to “act normal, act normal, act normal.” And, sadly wondering, how the hell I could ever act normal after today.
I was never one comfortable with confronting the “death thing,” but here it was smacking me right in the face. In addition, I was not going to have my best friend to help me get through this, because David was my best friend. Therefore, I had to dig deep and come to a peace within myself, for without that peace, the news would have eaten me alive!
It took David 10 months from that life changing day to actually tell me himself. It was New Year’s Eve 1997, not long after the last guest had gone. A very, uncharacteristically semi-drunk David asked me, “So, what’s new?” To which I responded, “Not much. What’s new with you?” Very calmly, he looked me in the eye and rather nonchalantly said, “Oh, not too much, but, I have AIDS.” I said, “I know.”
David passed away on May 3, 2008 at 9:30 p.m. while sitting and complaining about his terrible indigestion, which had bothered him all day. His mother told me that right before he died he said to her, “If I have to continue with this pain, I would rather the good Lord just took me home.” With that said he let out a sigh and slumped in the chair. David, my best friend, keeper of those damn lanterns, was dead at the age of 56.
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