“What a wonderful life I’ve had! I only wish I’d realized it sooner.”
~ Sidonie-Gabrielle (Colette)
On my Birthday I like to have some purpose to my thoughts. It’s a good opportunity to reflect and express. So I’ll share a personal story that I rarely if ever discuss with anyone.
Thursday was World AIDS day.
My friend Robert, passed away from AIDS back in 2005.
It is said that when you are ready for knowledge, the knowledge will present itself. When I first decided to come out, I met a guy named Robert.
I was at Bookshop Santa Cruz in February of 2005, perusing the LGBT periodical section and a handsome grey-haired gentleman with striking blue eyes tapped me on the shoulder and said, “Uh, your wallet is about it fall out.”
I used to carry this huge billfold wallet because I thought that was cool but it would often fall out of my pocket.
I said thank you, and struck up a conversation with him. He asked me somewhat abruptly, “I’m meeting my husband for lunch, would you like to join us?” Pushing myself to be more gregarious than was usual, I said yes.
We ate at a restaurant next door, sitting outside. Rob’s husband Chris was already there, at the table and it was a shocking sight. I had never in person seen someone dying of AIDS. He looked like some of the people I had seen in photographs taken by American forces liberating Nazi death Camps. He was in a wheelchair, frail, thinner than anyone I had ever seen, face gaunt but all of this was overpowered by the most delightful and genuine smile I’ve ever seen.
Chris was 50 years old, having just celebrated his half-century birthday a few weeks prior. Rob was younger at 38. They had met in San Francisco during the 80‘s and had been together for 17 years. Rob had contracted HIV sometime in the mid 90’s and passed it to his partner that same year. Both of them had managed to stay healthy on HIV meds up until the year I met them, when they both developed full blown AIDS.
Coincidentally, Rob and I share the same December 4th birthday.
At some point in the conversation, Chris asked me, “So do you have a boyfriend?” I was a little shocked. It actually hadn’t occurred to me that they had assumed that I was gay, and it was probably the first time in my life that anyone had asked me that.
I said no, and the expression on my face must’ve been very obvious because they exchanged a glance between one another and Chris said, “So you’re not OUT are you?”
I consider this a pivotal moment in my life because this was going to be the first time really that I was going to say it out loud. I had written about it, chatted online about it, even talked on the phone about it, but to have someone face to face, ask me to acknowledge that I was gay was a big moment. I said, “No, I’m not out.” And I was sad. And I hadn’t until that moment realized just how sad I was that I wasn’t out. Why wasn’t I out?
That was the first meeting.
Rob and Chris had a home in Santa Cruz right by the beach, but lived primarily in San Francisco. After that first meeting, we exchanged contact information and they invited me to visit them in SF anytime I wanted.
The “next time” turned out to be that weekend. Why wait right?
They lived in an old Victorian on Potrero Hill, the sort of place you think of when you picture San Francisco.
If the show “Hoarders” had been around back then, I’m sure their house might’ve been featured on it. I have never seen a house more filled to the brim with art, sculpture, photographs and books. It was like a dream. It was my dream.
Right up the street from their house was (is) a cafe called Farley’s, where we would meet up for coffee and chat. I would drive to SF just to have coffee at Farley’s with them. Farley’s is a holy place to me.
Over the course of what seemed like years but in reality was only a few months, Rob and Chris taught me about life. They took me to museums, to restaurants, to shows, we talked about poetry and wine, debated politics, and I felt more alive than I had ever felt before.
Due to a busy schedule between work and school, I didn’t get to see them as much as I would have liked. But every meet up was special and enlightening. I felt like I was growing and evolving every time we met. I treasure those visits.
One night in September, Chris took a heavy dose of pain pills and didn’t wake up the next morning. Rob told me that Chris always wanted to do things on his own terms, and this was his final act of defiance. Like he was telling life, “You can’t fire me! I QUIT.”
So I guess Rob was content with how things ended. The day before, they had gone to the MOMA, took the Ferry around the Bay, then had lunch in Golden Gate Park. They closed the evening sharing a bottle of unbelievably wonderful 1988 Guigal Mouline (the year they first started dating) and watched the 1939 film “The Women”. I can’t imagine a better way to go.
I think after Chris passed, Rob stopped taking his AIDS meds because he seemed to be getting exponentially worse every week. I can’t say I was surprised.
I always knew that he was eventually going to die, and in fact he had joked about it with me, often saying,
“Myles seriously one day you’ll see me and the next I’ll be in a fucking box in a ditch!”
I always found that joke dark, and twisted, but lighthearted in kind of a melodramatic, tragic way. But that was Rob.
Rob passed away due to complications from AIDS in early November, only a couple months after Chris. Per their wishes, their ashes were combined into an old blue and white Wedgewood vase that Rob used to fill with fresh flowers every morning. Then, myself and a small group of friends and family poured them out into the Santa Cruz Bay that they loved, together forever in the vast blue ocean.
One of the greatest things that Rob and Chris gave to me was their taste in music. Every time I saw them, they had made another mix CD for me. Sometimes they made several.
Music has a powerful way of transporting us to other worlds and to memories and moments. Rob was a HUGE Dave Matthews fan (I am not unfortunately) but he played the song, “TWO STEP” for me once, and though it is the ONLY Dave song that I really like, as a song, it’s in my top ten list of best songs of all time.
Rob jokingly said that the lyrics were about his life and his relationship with Chris. I think the words of this song greatly reflect the passion and love that Rob had for Chris, and the fulfilled life that he felt, despite dying so young.
Rob and Chris were amazing guys, and I learned a great deal from them. It is entirely possible that my whole outlook on the gay world, and even life in general came from them. My willingness to be open with people, including my friends and family, stemmed mostly from my encounters and talks with those two dudes.
I only listen to this song once or twice a year, but I’m going to blast it today in their memory.
If you want to get me something for my birthday, donate money to an AIDS charity. Or any charity.
Happy Birthday Rob.
TWO STEP
~ Dave Matthews
Hey my love do you believe that we
Might last a thousand years
Or more if not for this,
Our flesh and blood
It ties you and me right up
Tie me down
Celebrate we will
Because life is short but sweet for certain
We’re climbing two by two
To be sure these days continue
These things we cannot change
