Remembering

Long before December 1 became an international recognition of HIV/AIDS it was, for me, my paternal grandmother's birthday. She was born in Stockholm on this day in 1887.

From the Episcopal Church I learned to recognize December 1 as the feast of Nicholas Ferrar.

Now for two decades it has been a day to bring the scourge of AIDS into the general consciousness, to make us - and keep us - aware of its drastic toll. To call us to educate, prevent, and work for a cure. To do our bit to destigmatize the disease.

And to remember.

To remember those we miss.

I am uncomfortable listing names as there are so many I will omit due to the vagaries of recall. Still, there are Gary who was like the older brother I never had, and David Lee who created beautiful music to the glory of God and who worked with the teenage children of alcoholics, and Jeff who cleaned our house (and whose partner I anointed when he died), and those whose hospital beds and homes I visited, and those I knew through school or church or through mutual friends.

What about the unnamed millions and the millions of orphans left behind?

Others have written eloquently today about so many aspects of this issue that I hesitate to add a post.

But for those I remember and all the rest:

May they rest in peace and rise in glory.

And Happy Birthday, Farmor. I miss you too and have been thinking about you frequently of late.
--the BB