~LET ME INTRODUCE YOU TO MY BROTHER, KEVIN EUGENE PHELPS...

One day... In a galaxy far far away... Actually, it was in Indianapolis, IN, in the middle of the raging Blizzard of 1965. I remember the snow was piled as high as the car window as Dad drove us to friends for babysitting while Mom was trying not to give birth in the car. Having birthed 4 daughters one after the other, that was a distinct possibility. Dad's drag racing skills kicked in on that 1-lane snow-plowed road and they made it just in time for Mom to give birth to my beautiful baby brother, Kevin Eugene (after Dad) Phelps. Within minutes, Mom told her obstetrician something 'wasn't right', and he informed her that he had a LOT of experience in these things and things were fine. Until he then yelled "OMG SHE'S HAVING TWINS!!!". With a husband who often tried drinking away his devils, and 4 girls at home, born less than 18 months apart, I'm sure this was not music to her ears at the time. Kev and Kenny, his twin, each weighed less than 5 lbs, necessitating a month-long stay in the hospital. Such handsome fellas! Even at 9 years old, and with the responsibility of school, and cleaning our house (Dad thought the oldest child should be trained to be useful.), I relished Mom trusting me enough to take care of Kev, while she took care of Kenny, 24/7. Diapering, feeding, cleaning up after, bathing, dressing, teaching, potty training, I did it all, alongside her. As The Boys turned into toddlers, I took over a lot of their care. No surprise to me that the three of us share an unbreakable SisterMomma bond to this day, and forever will. 

Had they not been born within minutes of one another, you'd never know they were even related! Kenny was macho, helping Dad in the garage all the time, when he and Kev weren't engaged in actual battles of live mortal combat vs each other. Kev was, from around 3, more like our sister. Loved playing with the girls, HATED the garage (which didn't sit well with our macho dad in the 1960s, at all), and played with our dolls. You can probably tell by his exuberant stance in this photo, what was to unfold...

Kevin ADORED school, even though bullies hounded him for his effeminate gestures etc, daily. Kenny became his brother's staunchest ally and protector, finishing many of the battles began with Kev that Kev took his bruisings and walked away from. Kev was a natural social butterfly, so intellectually gifted, creative, and musically talented, playing trumpet in the school band. At 15, he decided it was time to share his truth with the world. He'd taken enough teasings and beatings and being the butt of the jokes. And if he had to deal with that, he may as well be allowed to be himself. Mom and Dad had divorced by then (though our family is very close and loving, it was always marred with dysfunction). When Kevin told Dad he was gay, that he had known he was different since his earliest memories when he wanted to play jump rope with the girls instead of kiss them, Dad's inner homophobe beat Kev badly. Kevin moved into our sister's, and fell in love for the first real time. Even in the early '80s, being gay was kept secret and most gays and lesbians suffered in total silence. Once Kevin came out, he made it his mission to come out with a vengeance and honesty that I've never before witnessed. He'd tell you anything you wanted to know about himself and his lifestyle. Honestly respond to any and every question you may have. And put you totally at ease. He put a 'real' face on being gay in our rural county. That went awesome at times, and horrible at others, but he never hid who he was, again.

Kev lived with me for his last 2 years of high school. He graduated having majored in every subject he took. His thirst for knowledge never waned. He could speak French like a native Parisian. Anything he didn't know how to do, he learned. Music was such a passion for him; especially 'his ladies': Pat Benatar, Deborah Harry, and later, Lisa Marie Presley and Lady Gaga, among others. Music, and lyrics, saved us our entire lives, over and over. Kev's friendly demeanor and demonic humor made him in popular demand; he was the center of attention when he walked into a room, and the light in the lives of those who knew him. To know him truly was, to love him. After high school, Kev entered the job field, picking and choosing and searching for what he wanted to spend his life's passion accomplishing. 

From his 20s into his 30s, Kev lived hard and played hard. I've never known or known of, a more life-loving person. "Life was meant for living" was his mantra and he attacked it with the childlike-glee of an innocent child, always learning, always in awe and amazement of everything the universe had to offer. For awhile, he did drag shows, which often benefitted children and those living with AIDS. July 23, 1992, our world fell apart... Kevin discovered he was HIV+. In the early 90s, doctors still didn't know much about this disease, except that it was a 'death sentence', with most patients living only a couple years at best, once AIDS was diagnosed. None of the rest of our lives would ever be the same. My treasured, adored, and beloved, brother, friend, child, was going to die... All of us suffered the sadness of what Kev was going through, and the horror of what would surely come... Only it didn't... For reasons no doctors have ever discerned as yet, Kev went years without even needing medicines, and seemingly had nothing 'wrong' with his health. Living with such a dire daily prognosis took a huge toll on his emotional health, however, though he hid his fears and complained only in humorous ways. A year after his HIV diagnosis, he couldn't handle the 'what ifs' and not knowing when his time would come. He'd buried too many friends already, to fight any longer, only to die the brutal deaths they had. He tried to end his life. But the rope broke... He called me in tears and terror, and we spent hours piecing together and trying to come up with ways to cope that worked for us both. I said "Kev, if death is your answer, we all die sooner or later anyway, why not wait and see what's around the corner? You can always die; you can't always live!".  We kept that pact we made at 4:30 that morning, and Kevin NEVER regretted it. Neither did I. I had my brother back, and it was time to enjoy that to the fullest, although we were at least subconsciously always haunted by the 'when' of the matter...

Changing his daily routine to a healthier one, Kev went on the AIDS cocktail, which had awful side effects. But we seldom knew what he was going through; he protected us from knowing. He held down his job, he socialized, he met friends for a cocktail or 5, and he continued being a vivacious and riveting activist for gays and for those who were HIV+. His doctor deemed him a 'long term survivor' and Kev wrung every last drop out of his life, every. single. day. He marched on Washington for Gay Rights and became a very vocal, vivacious, and intelligent advocate for gays and those living HIV+. He kept his friends and family close. He LIVED! He became a man living with AIDS, and adjusted his daily life to his new way of life. He never felt he missed out on anything; trust me, he'd lived 10 lifetimes at the peak of his health! Like the time he danced naked on the sidewalk (I believe this was partly due to a wild 'shroom experience!) in residential Bloomington, IN at 5 o'clock in the morning. A resident called the police about the crazy naked man, the police took him to the station, gave him something to wear, then as he awakened from a record slumber the next day, they returned his clothing to his apartment for him, including his weed stash in the pocket... They tried to do their job, but they were at the mercy of one of the most charming human beings they'd ever met, and his charm was his sincerity. They, like everyone who ever met him, didn't stand a chance to dislike or harass him!

The years are passing, and Kevin is living them in the way only Kevin ever could... Almost every day brings new ideas, thoughts, friends, and ways for him to be happy, even as he continued burying more friends than I believe he could count... He refused, as quickly as possible, to let sadness engulf him and get him down. He had one life here on planet Earth, as far as he knew, and he intended to honor those now-gone, by living, as they would've loved to do themselves, and as they would wish they were still doing. Another mantra between us; we had so many we accumulated over the years. Kevin loved every happy and good thing. Every happy and good time. He wasn't picky. He wasn't negative (in hindsight of medical studies done over the years, I have no doubt that his attitude towards life and the optimism with which he lived his, contributed to his living year after year, while losing so many diagnosed even years after him).  Our family fought over who got to talk and visit with him!  To be the center of his attention was priceless. He was that awesome!

We talked and visited very often. He was one of my favorite playmates! He adapted to every situation. He diffused any and every disagreement, with gently subtle humor, and love. He was healthy, for all intents and purposes, and he rode that wave like Laird Hamilton on his best curl. I began to believe that with the AIDS meds; he would outlive me, though I'm nearly 10 years older than him. And I clung to that every day; a world without Kevie in it was a world I couldn't fathom. The years are passing and Kevin's medicines begin needing to be changed out... He has to relive old and new, side effects, yet again. Some of the meds cause weight loss, some weight gain, explosive and painful diarrhea, vomiting, exhaustion... All the while their toxicity are likely destroying his organs in ways unknown, even as his 'numbers' label him 'healthy', all things considered.  He has to take meds to fix the side effects of the very meds keeping him alive; those come with their own side effects. Yet still, he rode that wave of life, never giving up, only slowing down briefly, til he was back on his feet, and back in action.

A couple of years ago, I noticed Kev wasn't being as social as he'd been his entire life. He often craved moments to himself; totally unlike who he'd always been. The Kevie-Gong in my gut began jangling... I tried ignoring it... We still called each other all the time. We went to Gay Pride Week in Key West, with our beloved Joey, Kev's best friend, twice. Joey died less than 6 months after our last trip there; he'd been diagnosed years after Kev. I think life was starting to warn Kev to take notice of things he might want to begin doing... We began hearing from him even more often. He started doing so many things he realized he really wanted to do... My family moved from Las Vegas to Florida in 2010. My gut insisted I needed Kev to ride along with me on the drive cross country. Together, just the 2 of us, we traveled from Nevada to the East coast... We toured the south rim of the Grand Canyon, in silent awe of its majestic beauty; he'd never seen it before... Sharing that with Kev was one of the best moments of my life. We stood on the corner in Winslow, AZ, only to find out that Winslow's not the real city the Eagles were talking about, it was Flagstaff!  We cried our way through Graceland...  

...and when we reached my new home in Florida, we hit the beach!  It was a trip of a lifetime to share with Kev, and a perfect fit for us both. We laughed, we cried over a family medical crisis while we were on the road, we  teased each other, we watched our favorite tv shows in the hotels nightly. New bonds were forged, and current bonds were strengthened. After the July 4th weekend, he went back to Indiana, with plans to return to Florida for Gay Pride Week, this past June, in our old haunt, Key West...

Once home, Kevin resumed his daily life, but fatigue was beginning to wear him down. Still, he began volunteering to speak with schools about life with AIDS, on a panel with doctors. Many of the students approached him after each talk, asking questions and telling him how thought-provoking his contributions to the panel, were for them. His thyroid was found to be sluggish, within a few months, synthetic thyroid hormones raised his TSH levels pretty much to normal. Still, he couldn't get to sleep, and when he finally managed to meet the Sandman in a happy place, he would sleep sometimes for days, once, for over 72 hours...

As his energy levels waned, he continued believing that it had to be his thyroid. Behind the scenes, he was completing classes in Astrology and Parapsychology, taking care of his adored 5 kitties, and making the lives of everyone around him, smile... Between AIDS and the medications to stave it off, he had been through PCP (Pneumocystis Pneumonia), a form of pneumonia caused by a yeast-like fungus common amongst those with compromised immune systems. He also had Wasting Syndrome, and believed he was showing the initial signs of Lipodystrophy (where fat from certain areas repositions itself in other areas of the body). His weight was remaining around where the doctors felt comfy it should be, but his face, chest and arms were getting thinner; all things I questioned him about. We cared so much for one another, and needed each other in our lives so thoroughly, that even though I think we subconsciously 'knew' something wasn't going well, we couldn't begin to think of the results that may already be in motion, with, or without, our consent or conscious knowledge. 




Kev was disabled from COPD and his many other health issues, and this summer spent much of his time finding and getting re-acquainted with family members from whom we'd lost touch. He added them to his arsenal of weapons against the obstacles of his life, tried to manage his health, but I could see towards the end of summer that chronic illness was wearing him down.  I asked him in August to please go see a doctor, what if AIDS was working against him in unseen ways, regardless of his un-detectable viral load? He promised to go as soon as April, his favorite N.P. at his doctor's office, was in the office. And told me he had his next actual appointment in November anyway. He had signed up for Singsnap and YouTube, singing covers of many of his favorite songs, beautiful and poignant tributes, often dedicating them to loved ones. His Facebook and Twitter activity dwindled to almost no postings at all, except for music videos that he enjoyed. Why couldn't I see what was right in front of my face? Why couldn't I fuss at him until he felt forced to see the doctor asap? Why didn't I bring him down here in June like we'd planned, instead of worrying his exhaustion would prohibit him from enjoying what may be our last trip to Key West, and both of us agreeing to wait until the fall, when it was cooler outside? Why why why.... ohhh... the why's will kill you if you let them...




After 'the rope incident', I suggested Kev might wish to write down his feelings. I had always journaled, back when it was called a 'diary' and had a breakable lock with a kitty on the front cover. It helped me; I hoped it would help him. When he agreed to try it, I bought us matching journals, such as this one, our first Moleskines (being a Francophile, he was thrilled!), lemon-green colored (one of our fave colors), and this is the last thing he wrote in it... a song, a poem, it appears to be... He seems to have come to terms with so many things by this point in June of this year... He'd become so much wiser than I'd ever have thought any human could have been... He was calm, at peace... But he wasn't 'finished'...

Kevin could never be 'counted out'... He had overcome so very many obstacles in his life, several of which weren't related to AIDS at all. With a smile, he took every damn curve ball life smashed him in the face with, and laughingly tossed it aside. He had plans... He wanted to be on 'Big Brother' badly. To continue his work educating and enlightening AIDS patients, and the world in general, about life with AIDS, and prevention. He wanted to live to see a cure, so as to stop losing friends. He wanted to foster a child; his greatest wish. He wanted to be  a 'big brother' for a kid. He couldn't wait to see Sarah Michelle Gellar again in 'Ringer', this fall on tv. He wanted a meet and greet with Lisa Marie Presley... and so so many more wishes and plans, as soon as he manifested enough energy...

On Saturday, September 10th, 2011, few of us heard from Kevie, though we know he went with a friend to buy cat food early Saturday morning... He hadn't responded to my texts or calls since Wednesday night of that week, very unlike him, but his actions were changing a bit with his fatigue levels. On Sunday night, after midnight, I phoned a very very dear friend of ours; she too, hadn't heard from him in a couple of days. Neither had some of his friends, who went to his door and knocked, without a response. Since it took him days to fall asleep, he could become perturbed if awakened, so they left, not wanting to disturb his sleep... All of us were uneasy, but didn't want to 'bother' him, since sleep was such a precious commodity to him these days. Once we began seeing the beginning panic of his loved ones via Facebook postings, it was decided to have his apartment manager check on him asap the next morning. We felt between a rock and a hard place, we couldn't believe anything really wrong could have happened... we didn't want to disturb his finally being able to sleep... we were so scared and worried, yet still trying to look out for his best interests... At 9:35 Monday, September 12th, 2011, my brother was found dead, on his couch, his tv on and his cell phone charging on the table in front of him. The maintenance man had been sent to check on him, and he said had he just opened the door and looked, he'd have sworn he was only sleeping. His forehead was smooth and unlined... his cell phone ready and waiting if he felt ill or anything wrong, to call 911 or help, immediately... It was his routine to fall asleep watching tv, it helped with his insomnia... When I got the news, I spent the rest of the day and night on my bedroom floor, in a fetal position, in disbelief and un-acceptance... our 'bond' was intact!!! HOW could my brother-my sister-my confidante-my safe haven-the one who truly understood and loved me without strings, always-the one who always always made me laugh til I cried-the one who taught me every single day about bravery, courage, acceptance, life, living and loving... how could THIS magical, amazing, human being, be anything BUT asleep... He was 46 yrs old...

8 weeks have passed since the most unique person I've ever been blessed to know, much less have in my life, 'passed away'... The day after he 'left', we got on planes (I have a primal terror of flying, yet I flew on 2 planes home and back, who do YOU think was my guardian angel for those trips?!) to set Kevie free, and let him soar, un-encumbered by decades of toxic meds, illness, insomnia... He and I had discussed his wishes off and on since his diagnosis, but he really placed an importance on making sure we discussed them, this year. We 'knew', so how did we NOT 'know'??? There are still no answers to any of my questions, it just is what it is...

I'm the oldest of 7 siblings, whom I absolutely more than my life. To have Kevie 'leave' before me, is unfathomable to my mind, body and soul. He is a part of the very fabric of my genetic and emotional being; I cannot unglue him from me. I cannot sever the bond. I feel him all around me. Yet I fight the sadness and devastation every second of every day. Loss is familiar to me, our dad, grandparents, many aunts, uncles and friends, even a 13 yr old nephew, gone. NOTHING I've faced in over half a century thus far, begins to compare to what I'm facing now. Like a newborn colt trying to stand in quicksand, then learning to walk... I haven't the slightest inkling what to do next. I know the logic. I know the cliches and platitudes. I know the grieving process. This isn't just a 'loss'. This is a huge chunk of my heart ripped from me without warning or permission. This, is learning to live life in a world without him. He called me his GoddessBlossom. He was my BottomBlossom. (You may not want to know! haha.) I conferred, consulted and confided most every aspect of my life with him, and vice versa, to the point I'd have to beg him to talk to the hand, I don't want to hear the rest! THIS... is much bigger than me... Beyond what people should have to endure. HE WASN'T FINISHED!!! My ONLY consolation thus far? That in saving everything he's written, sang, etc, I came across this Facebook post of his from August 11th of this year; exactly a month before he died. As I read it, I felt a freedom to let him 'be'. He'd fought so hard for almost 20 years, to remain with us, no matter the consequences of his doing so, for him. He'd endured pain and misery over half of his life. But he stayed. The least I can do, is let him be free. Let it be ok. On that Sunday night, my favorite day of the week, he lay down to sleep, and never awoke. The coroner declared it a cardiac arrhythmia. He couldn't have been saved, she says, his heart had been through enough. He wasn't found until the next day, but he'd likely passed away on Sunday morning, after talking and watching Lady Gaga videos with a friend. No one who saw him those last 48 hours spoke of anything being off, or different, about him. They said he was his normal, cheery, joking, self. I take solace that they were as puzzled and shocked by the suddenness, as I. I also take comfort knowing it appears to have happened when he was finally able to fall asleep...





In the following post from Kev, his fatigue, his weariness, is finally appearing... He'd never complained in this manner before... I believe he'd had enough, and that while he wasn't going to give up, he wasn't going to fight what was meant to be, either:


"... You see, as w/my friends (who chose to stop meds and die), everytime I grab that gallon size freezer bag of assorted chemo-type poisons that are the only defense against this invisible, silent, and YES, still deadly disease and think, again, that you're taking yet ONE MORE handful, for 1 more day, and sometimes one just thinks 'for what?'. It's a difficult thing, having it thrown in your face 2x a day, that you are dependent on these pills that cost SOOOO much and do so much damage to the liver, the kidneys, bones, joints, etc after facing your own mortatilty first by being told you're gonna die before you turn 30, then when you're told you need to go on meds, which means time is getting closer (at least, then, it was far closer), again, when you almost actually die of pneumonia and wasting syndrome (weighing in at a whopping 114lbs when you're 5'10"), constantly having to go get blood drawn, constantly fighting any type of scheduled actual rest as that's not a possibility, trying to remember to keep extra pants, underwear, and socks in case you wind up squirting bloody shit out of your rectal orifice w/no notice, it get's old. I'm old. I'm also a product of my environment, and for the majority of the 1st part of that environment, the 'norm' for me was violence, pain, not belonging, and being condemned and outcast, by alleged friends and family. Then I have to comb back my hair, put a smile on my face, and keep doing it, for I have no other choice but to die, and I ain't goin yet.


Gawd, guys, I'm NOT suicidal or anything, it's just NO ONE understands the effect of carrying this 'cept those of us who go thru it, & I UNDERSTAND their choices, just not choosing the same fate for me as I'm worth more."





Kev's worst nightmare was that he'd be forgotten. He'd had no children to carry on his name, and he felt he'd leave without a valuable legacy to be remembered by. I intend to make sure no one forgets him, and to introduce him to the world, if possible, in some very meaningful way that would make him proud. What I've shared here is one drop in a 100-gallon bucket of all things Kevie. He had more facets to his heart, personality, and soul, than Liz Taylor's Krup diamond!  If you'd care to get to know Kev more, witness his wit, fall for his folly, his Facebook page is public; he never had anything to hide, is how he proclaimed it. Kevin E Phelps is how to find it. Twitter is: kevinephelps. Find him under his name at YouTube.com and Singsnap.com. MEET my brother, please!  You won't be sorry. His mission was to let young people know that HIV/AIDS is NOT over. Don't let your guard down! Be tested!  And for those suffering already with this disease, it's still a nightmare, but it's controllable and worth the fight. He lived over 19 years longer than he was 'supposed' to. He defied the odds, yet he did nothing special or better than anyone else, to do so. He just remained positive, and appreciated the life he had, while he had it. 

When Kev was created, there was no mold to break. Cos there was no mold! He was traditional but not traditional. He played with dolls growing up but could build a house from foundation to finish, including landscaping. He was passionate and serious, together and separately. He was life personified; no one would tell you any differently. He wanted a Celebration of Life, not a weepy funeral service. And that's what he got. Laughter, tears both sad and happy, loved ones of all ages, genders, backgrounds, coming together to celebrate the wonder that was Kev. We toasted the blessing that was Kev with a shot of Jim Beam; his favorite. I think I felt him smile! I shall keep our pacts, our mantra's, and all the beautifully invaluable lessons life with Kev has taught me. I think the reason I can't feel that broken 'bond'? Because he's not gone! I feel his presence everywhere, in everything. I'm learning to see the world anew, from his perspective and viewpoint. As long as I breathe, Kev will never be forgotten. In many many ways, I hope to make sure of that. I love you, Mon BB... forever past infinity... XOXOX

~* PEACE *~