The Gift: Part 2
Dec. 17th, 2008 08:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cellboyThis is part two of, a three part post, of the people who in some way touched my life. Who in retrospect left me a part of themselves, in their own way to me. I call it a gift. This is also a tribute to them as well.
Through the experience of life's gains and losses we have learned to become what we are. Strengthening our weaknesses, or weakening our strengths. Sometimes through the loss of a loved one, in hindsight, we learn about ourselves and of others. Things that may of always been there, but we never saw. Or things newly discovered. This discovery, can be a gift. A gift to life itself.
I met Larry in 1988, at a BBQ, with my date. Larry, being the flirt that he was, just did it to me. I was "in like". So days later, we got together and hit it off superbly. We dined, I cooked, he courted me. He basically swept me off my feet. It seemed to be an OK match. Not totally my type, but for some strange reason, I stuck with him.
We got closer with time, and I and his family hit it off perfectly. They lived around the corner from me. Being the old Italian family as they were, I was Larry's *friend*. His parents and his brother must of known we were lovers(they better have, after 9 yrs of being with each other), but to this day, never discussed it. And my family, who I came out to yrs earlier, loved him. My dad looked forward to seeing him. He even let Larry feed him (due to my dad's ALS). My mother, at the time, was not too thrilled about my lifestyle, actually grew to love him. She said he was a "man's man. Which he was. And not too long ago, mentioned to me what a nice man he was. And that she missed him a lot.
During the first year of our relationship, something was wrong. His sweats, off and on fevers. The spot on his foot. To make a long story short I made him see a Dr. (he was the type that even if his arm were partially severed, he would not see a Dr). It was concluded, in 1989, that he had AIDS. New disease at the time, we were scared shitless. And that was the time of tons of pills, TPN, and many 911 hospital emergencies)
In about 1991/1992, Larry and I were at a friends house for a brunch, we were all laughing , joking, and it was just the timing, but we both said something funny at each other. We both laughed together until tears were rolling down our faces. That was the turning point for me. That was the moment that I knew that I was in love with him. And it was at that moment, no matter what happened, I would stay with him forever.
So time went on. And so did the the tons of pills, TPN, and many 911 hospital emergencies
There were nights of no sleep. Nights of cleaning up the sheets. But all through the yrs, I think I only slept in the other room twice. Sick as he was becoming, I still held his hand as we slept each night. A lesson, I learned from my mom in caring for my Dad, was patience and love. She taught us a lot during those days with my dad. She was remarkable. And brave.
Not to say I was never frustrated. And sometimes hurt from his grumpiness from feeling ill.
Not to say I wanted to run many a time. But I didn't. I couldn't. I loved him. And he loved me
So, on the 9th yr of our relationship, the trips to the hospital were increasing. He was down to skin and bones. He quit work in the wholesale flower business, but continued his hobby/other job as antique dealer. But even that was too much of a chore. He was slowly shutting down.
He had many trips over last 2 yrs to the hospital. He had about nine in all. We all agreed and said that he had nine lives; for he always rebounded and came back home. But it ended on August 19, 1997. Just a few months short of his 40th birthday. All of us thought that this would be his 10th life. He would rebound again.
I was a work that day, exhausted, from the many nights that week at the hospital. His mom called and said get up here fast. I did. But I missed saying one last goodbye by just a few minutes.
The 2 doves that were huddled outside my bedroom window that week, arriving on the day I took him to the hospital, left on the day he died.
The Gift? Love. It was the strongest feeling I had ever felt. And he gave me the same. And it gave me the strength to care for him, and even love him even more.
I could of run. Not wanting to deal with this madness. But I didn't.
The Gift? Learning of my own unknown strength. And learning to give of one's self. To care that much more.
Larry - I will always miss you and love you.
Through the experience of life's gains and losses we have learned to become what we are. Strengthening our weaknesses, or weakening our strengths. Sometimes through the loss of a loved one, in hindsight, we learn about ourselves and of others. Things that may of always been there, but we never saw. Or things newly discovered. This discovery, can be a gift. A gift to life itself.
I met Larry in 1988, at a BBQ, with my date. Larry, being the flirt that he was, just did it to me. I was "in like". So days later, we got together and hit it off superbly. We dined, I cooked, he courted me. He basically swept me off my feet. It seemed to be an OK match. Not totally my type, but for some strange reason, I stuck with him.
We got closer with time, and I and his family hit it off perfectly. They lived around the corner from me. Being the old Italian family as they were, I was Larry's *friend*. His parents and his brother must of known we were lovers(they better have, after 9 yrs of being with each other), but to this day, never discussed it. And my family, who I came out to yrs earlier, loved him. My dad looked forward to seeing him. He even let Larry feed him (due to my dad's ALS). My mother, at the time, was not too thrilled about my lifestyle, actually grew to love him. She said he was a "man's man. Which he was. And not too long ago, mentioned to me what a nice man he was. And that she missed him a lot.
During the first year of our relationship, something was wrong. His sweats, off and on fevers. The spot on his foot. To make a long story short I made him see a Dr. (he was the type that even if his arm were partially severed, he would not see a Dr). It was concluded, in 1989, that he had AIDS. New disease at the time, we were scared shitless. And that was the time of tons of pills, TPN, and many 911 hospital emergencies)
In about 1991/1992, Larry and I were at a friends house for a brunch, we were all laughing , joking, and it was just the timing, but we both said something funny at each other. We both laughed together until tears were rolling down our faces. That was the turning point for me. That was the moment that I knew that I was in love with him. And it was at that moment, no matter what happened, I would stay with him forever.
So time went on. And so did the the tons of pills, TPN, and many 911 hospital emergencies
There were nights of no sleep. Nights of cleaning up the sheets. But all through the yrs, I think I only slept in the other room twice. Sick as he was becoming, I still held his hand as we slept each night. A lesson, I learned from my mom in caring for my Dad, was patience and love. She taught us a lot during those days with my dad. She was remarkable. And brave.
Not to say I was never frustrated. And sometimes hurt from his grumpiness from feeling ill.
Not to say I wanted to run many a time. But I didn't. I couldn't. I loved him. And he loved me
So, on the 9th yr of our relationship, the trips to the hospital were increasing. He was down to skin and bones. He quit work in the wholesale flower business, but continued his hobby/other job as antique dealer. But even that was too much of a chore. He was slowly shutting down.
He had many trips over last 2 yrs to the hospital. He had about nine in all. We all agreed and said that he had nine lives; for he always rebounded and came back home. But it ended on August 19, 1997. Just a few months short of his 40th birthday. All of us thought that this would be his 10th life. He would rebound again.
I was a work that day, exhausted, from the many nights that week at the hospital. His mom called and said get up here fast. I did. But I missed saying one last goodbye by just a few minutes.
The 2 doves that were huddled outside my bedroom window that week, arriving on the day I took him to the hospital, left on the day he died.
The Gift? Love. It was the strongest feeling I had ever felt. And he gave me the same. And it gave me the strength to care for him, and even love him even more.
I could of run. Not wanting to deal with this madness. But I didn't.
The Gift? Learning of my own unknown strength. And learning to give of one's self. To care that much more.
Larry - I will always miss you and love you.
