UPCLOSE & PERSONAL....

The unsung hero in my life is Jerry. Jerry is a gentle and loving man. Since we met in September of 1985, he has been the most generous and loving of spirits I have ever had the good fortune to meet. It would be difficult to talk about me without mentioning Jerry since he has been such an intricate part of my life over the past twenty years. Today more than ever, his friendship and his devotion remains constant and steadfast. Unlike most of those I've known as lover or friend, Jerry stands beside me like a rock prepared at the first sign of trouble to come to my rescue. How very fortunate I have been to have had two men, Jerry and David, to love me with such devotion as they have demostrated. To have had such unconditional love from these two wonderful men.

Jerry and I were lovers for eleven years. I was twenty-nine and he was thirty seven when we met that beautiful fall night in Biloxi, Mississippi. It was September of 1985. Aids in our area of the country had just begun to take it first victims and we committed ourselves to one another for what we believe would be a life time. Neither of us knew whether we would be next and in the following two years there would be phone calls from the Health Department advising us of sexual contacts who had been diagnosed with Hiv. Somehow we both remain negative. Many of the bar buddies at Teddy Bears I had partied with before meeting Jerry became infected and died within a matter of one or two years. There were a few funerals but most were quietley buried or cremated without much fan fare.

Jerry and I became fixtures at all the local restaurants and bars where the up and coming congregated. We had new cars, a beautiful townhouse and a cat named Ms. Peepers. We were in most respects, the gay couple, hetrosexuals could tolerate comfortably. We lived this life for quite a while with both of us eventually growing further and further apart. There was the death of Jerry's father. The death of a friend, Gary Stover, a local artist and long time friend who had helped me decorate my Christmas tree for the past two years. And so many more things I can't begin to list them. Too many things. Jerry and I called it quits as lovers. We became friends after a short separation but have remained friends ever since.

When I met David, I was living across the breezeway from Jerry in an apartment building arranged in order to be close to one another. I fell in love with David the moment I met him and nothing was ever the same for me. Within a year, David and I moved to another place since the ex and the current felt uncomfortable as close neighbors. On many occassions during my love affair with David and our life together, Jerry came to our aid while we struggled to keep David in meds and doctor visits and such and even during David's hospice when I needed him the most. By that time, I had gone bankrupt and had to quit my job to take care of David....and Jerry was there. It was Jerry who bought me the computer I now have to keep me company during all the lonely nights when David was so drugged out. That was a year ago. God it seems longer.

Yes! Dear Jerry, you are my unsung hero because no one will ever know how much you have loved me and taken care of me during the darkest time in my life. No one will know the strength it must've taken for you to watch me fall in love with another man and still remain vigilant. What an invincible man you are to now have to watch me suffer the same fate as my David. My only regret in life is that I'll never be able to show you just how much you mean to me and how much your love has sustained me during my greatest tribulation. You are my unsung hero!

Sitting In David's Silk PJ's

I am both reminded and comforted of his memory as I approach the new battles that lie ahead. Juggling social programs, attorneys, social security and wondering if I should find a new doctor, it is reassuring that despite the uphill climb to financial insecurity that I can slip into David's old navy blue silk pajama's when times are tough. It has been a devastating week and in order to keep my sanity, I must stop, take a deep breath and renew my efforts to wrangle the numerous beast necessary to maintain this life of poverty. The struggle this year made even more difficult, by a President ,who seems more interested in his expensive war on terrorism rather than the ills of a nation.

For homosexuals and those afflicted with HIV, the struggles for basic rights and our mere survival are becoming increasingly difficult, if not impossible. Slowly but surely we are being systematically eliminated from social programs curtailing medication, medical treatment and mere housing. Those of us with our hands out, jumping through all the loop, seeking to rise to the challenges of living with HIV are constantly humilated and even denied basic necessities of life. New red tape. Our billion dollar a day war in Iraq (never mind we never found their weapons of mass destruction) and the growing number of casualties is draining the country of her resources and from all accounts her will to stop an administration that is out of control.

As a homosexual and one afflicted with HIV, I am witnessing first hand the tiresome and enormous task it has become to maintain a home, to acquire medication, to receive disability and now to seek another doctor,(one who's nurse does not have her fist clamped tightly around his balls). However, finding a doctor,seeking medical treatment or getting medication, is not on the top of my list. Housing, disability and struggling to stay off the street are my main concerns tonight. Salvaging what's left of my pride seems unimportant as I sit here in David's pj's and ponder my next move.

The debate in Washington and across the United States will continue as those of us battling these difficulties continue to press forward. It is the way of things and we must accept some defeats in order to save our energy for the greater battles that lie ahead. My disability hearing is slated for this week in August of 2005. The skirmish with Hopwa rages on this week. The struggle with Community Action begins anew. The search for another place to lay my head begins in earnest. And energy permitting, the arm wrestling needed to illicit the support of the South Mississippi Aids Taskforce will commence once again. Survival weighs heavy on my mind these days while at my computer, sitting here in David's pajama's......

I can't help but wonder what David would say right now to reassure me if he were here beside me. I can almost here his voice say," What are you doing in my pajama's?" A smile comes to my face and I shake my head in fond memory of his charm and humor. His unique way of seeing right through me. "You'll do fine," he would say with one of his Irish smiles, " Go kick their butts and remember, baby, I love you."

I wish I could hear his voice today......

IN LOVING MEMORY 

GAY WIDOWER...

One of the terrible legacies of HIV are the growing numbers of Gay Widowers. I joined the ranks of unfortunates last October 15, 2004 at or about noon of that day. There is nothing that can possibly prepare someone for the devastating loss of a partner especially those of us who loved our mates with everything we possessed. Bucko and I were discussing this the other day hence this blog.

During our communication, I found myself very aware of the pain he must still feel even though it has been years since his partner passed away. Between the lines there was a quiet but unmistakeable message of love lost and the terrible emptiness, the pain that haunts him to this day. It is comforting that I find him not only able to go on with his life but to give it purpose as well. To somehow make sense of the tragedy that had befallen him so many years ago. He is truly a beacon in the dark world of pain and suffering for those of us still struggling with the mere absence of our partner and the gaping wound in our chest that use to be our heart.

Raymond David McRae III was a gentle, loving spirit of a man. His youthful exurberance and Irish smiles could charm even the toughest of hearts. The mere fact that I found him gives me hope for the future for others who are still searching for their soul mates. I found mine. I will never find another like him. It took thirty-five years to find my soul mate the first time, the odds of finding someone else to succeed him are enormously against my favor. Certaintly, no one could ever replace him.

What died in our second story bedroom that beautiful fall day was not just the physical body of Raymond David McRae III. But a part of me died with him. My heart. It wasn't until after I tried to commit suicide last January did it ever occur to me that like Bucko, I was left behind for a reason. It is with a renewed sense of purpose that I now tackle life without David beside me. I know I will always love him. I pray his spirit will be with me as I face the future and the reality of living with HIV. Like him, before me, I am a gay widower

David and my last Christmas 2003

UPCLOSE AND PERSONAL....Through out my adult life and before, I've ear-marked events with songs that were either popular on the radio or just in my heart. Remembering Abba... Those Swedish guys had it going on....The song "The Visitor" comes to mind these days. Being stuck in this little dwelling of mine. From the lyrics the humiliation of being discovered to be Crazy was the great fear that resounded. Makes perfect sense now. I feel as though I've gone mad.. And then there's,"When all is said and done". Well, all is not said or done. Far from it. My fingers just seem to fly over the keys on the keyboard these days. Let's hope I have something worthy of saying? Oh C'mon...have a little faith...................

The song that comes to mind when I met David was sang by Mark Anthony, entitled," You sang to me." While he was alive and we were together our song was from Moulon Rouge, and sang by Nicole Kidman and Ian McGregor, entitled,"Come what may."

These days I'm not the man I was. I have been transformed. Changed. Made new and different by the death of my lover and the subsequent events that followed his passing. The world is the same but somehow deep inside me, I am different. I have been so many things, to so many people. How does one live with a broken heart. How does one pick up the pieces and begin again?

One must start by taking the first step, I suppose and this, my friend, is where I am. Now...I must discover for myself who I have become and what purpose my life will serve in the future. The song,"My heart will go on..." comes to mind. Celine Dion sings it well. Music does so many things for me. It makes me happy. It comforts me when I sad. It gives me hope when I feel hopeless. Is it any wonder that we assign songs to certain chapters in our lives. I think not. It makes perfect sense to me.

My baby in better days

My Jerry...My ex and long time friend

David and I (Lovers Forever)

UPCLOSE AND PERSONAL. An odessey of self discovery for someone who thought life was over and done. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is David Peavy. I'm a gay, white male, 49 years of age and feeling every minute of it. Last October 15th, I lost the love of my life and thought life itself was over for me too. It's not, my friend. It's time to get to know myself again. To introduce you and me to the person I have become. The man I have become and to acknowledge the fact that my illness does not define who I am. It has changed the path in which I travel these days. It has changed so many things about everyday life and yet, why should I allow it to stop me from being the man I want to be now.

Nobody loves sex more than I do. I am a sexaholic I suppose. I'm also an alcoholic. A drug addict. A homo...a lover of men.... the man who loved David McRae III with all his heart..... and so many other things.

It would seem that being a homosexual in this time, from my time requires one to be addict to sex and drugs and if you believe the hype, rock-n-roll. The sixties...the seventies and disco....then the eighties....the married nineties....and then the turn of the new century with my dear lost lover. How the years have rolled past. The fads. The clothes. The attitudes. The new technology. It is now the information age. There's nothing we can't find on the internet. Nobody's business we can't discover. No secrets kept locked away. Who we are is now a matter of letters and numbers typed out on a keyboard to bring up that picture...that blog....that homepage.....the information in interspace that exposes us all to the world. Well...here I am world. Take a good look and tell me what you see. And then, I'll tell you what I see.

Upclose and personal. Let's all take a good look at ourselves and admit what we see. Confess what we want. Reveal our most intimate thoughts. My odessey has just begun and here is where I will expose myself to the world. One piece at a time. One photo....One admission at a time. http://toknowme4sure.blogspot.com/