February 25th was the 48th birthday of my brothers who were twins, Kevin Eugene (on the left), and Kenneth Dean (on the right).
They were born during the snow plowing of a blinding blizzard in 1965. How my mother, who had born 4 daughters by that time, didn't birth them in a snow drift, is beyond me! The snow was up to the windows as we followed the snow plow on the single lane it forged up a major highway trying to reach, 1. Our friends' house for us girls to stay while Mom was in the hospital. And 2. The hospital 20 miles from there, since twins can be a high risk birth.
'The boys' as they were known until adulthood, were born 4 minutes apart, didn't look a thing alike, and were as different in personalities as they were in looks.
They spent their childhood in the usual all-boy pursuits of trying to kill each other, with such inspired weaponry as their glass milk bottles (initially, as babies, that's all they had in hand!), Hot Wheels cars, lawn darts/jarts, croquet mallets, even graduating to BB guns at one point. But behind that attempted cranial cracking was a bond that would never waiver.
In those days, boys did boy things. Masculine. Daredevil'ish. Turns out Kev had ideas of his own, even as a toddler. He was just as good playing with Barbie and tea parties as he was lobbing a Hot Wheel car off its track to knock out Kenny's eye. Thankfully his aim was off that time! In those dark ages, when everyone was afraid of everything that was different and/or that they didn't understand, Kevin became more and more of a pariah the older he became. Turns out, he was gay. Something he knew from around age 6, though he had no name for it at that time. Neither did we. The girlish'ness didn't go unrecognized, but we knew nothing about 'gays', how they 'got that way', how to 'fix it', how to realize our lives did not need homophobes in them.
Kevie was loud and proud as he grew into a teenager. At age 15, he officially 'came out', and from then on, was liberated from the chains of living a life that's a lie, one that will suck your life's blood right from the marrow. Dad beat him up and kicked him out. He lived with my sister, and then with me, as he finished high school. He and Dad made up not long after he was banned from his childhood home. Dad didn't understand, but he eventually got it, that Kevin was his child, period. They had a pretty great relationship from then on. Mom always accepted and loved Kevin, period. They were great friends. With the support of his most important family members and friends, Kev went on to live a life full of happiness. No one I ever knew ever spent a day as grateful to live in it, as Kev. No one was as much fun to be around, as Kev. Wicked sense of humor, literally, no joke. Irreverent. As silly as a child. Animal lover and advocate. As articulate as Stephan Hawking if he chose to be. A connossieur of all things French, and fluent in the language. His greatest passion became advocating for AIDS awareness. July 23, 1992, he was diagnosed HIV positive. The first couple of years were the roughest. He decided not to view life as awaking with a death sentence hanging over his head every morning, wondering when he would one day die a horrible death. He decided he happened to be a person who had HIV. And that the disease wouldn't define him, nor take away any quality from his life, until he could no longer beat it.
As he got older, he felt a fervent need to educate others about the perils of being HIV positive. AIDS was declining in media coverage, yet not declining in new cases all over the world. He sat on a panel of doctors and educators that spoke to college and high school students, especially in Bloominton, IN, where he lived. He shared his life, the highs and lows, with these kids, many of whom came after the presentation to ask more questions and thank him for doing so. It was one of the highlights of his entire life, for his life to mean something to them.
As he aged, his health began to decline, and the AIDS cocktail he had taken for years, began to take a mortal toll on his organs. Kevie was so very many things to me... My brother... Like my child... My confidante... A best friend... Someone who loved without a single string, ever... MY FRIEND. He called me 'GoddessBlossom' and when I asked why, he merely said 'Because you are...'. He was my 'BottomBlossom'. (You may not want to ask haha.) We were thick as thieves, and I could barely remember life without him in it.
On September 11, 2010, he never awoke.
He was found laying on his couch, cell phone charging on the table in front of him, tv on (as always when he fell asleep).
He appeared so sleepily at peace...
He had made it 20 years with HIV/AIDS.
His story was the first with which I began my ROBA blog.
My concept of starting ROBA was to share with others all of the beautiful things, people, places, fun, etc, that I have been so fortunate to have found in a well-journeyed life.
Kevin is the most-beautiful of them all...
Seventeen months have come and gone since Kevin fell into a permanent sleep. This has been the most difficult year of my life, and of many of the lives of the family and friends who also knew and loved him. You don't enjoy a life filled with such a life force as Kevin, without your entire universe altering at his passing.
Kevin loved being loved. His worst fear was being forgotten.
I hope he realizes there is no chance of that.
As long as I breathe, I'll be singing his praises, and there will be those who pick up that thread, when I'm gone.
Life will never be the same, never as bright, never as fun, never as happy. I learn to live with this, and live to learn how to continue with this new life. It's time.
I feel like a new-born colt, stumbling into a new world unbuffered by Kev's influence on it. I write this so you will know his name, and maybe remember him in some large or small way. So his name lingers everywhere, even if only from time to time. I write about my brother so that no one will become complacent of HIV/AIDS. Life can be lived with it; Kevin showed us all that truth. Kevin always lived life, wrung every iota of silver from every lining, his entire life! We could all learn a lesson from that.
AIDS is not over. It is not cured.
When Kev died, he'd had his regular AIDS exam about a month before. His viral load was undetectable. His T-cell count was good. There was no indication his time was running out...
His message would strongly be:
GET TESTED.
BE SAFE.
LISTEN TO YOUR DOCTORS.
And if you have HIV/AIDS, don't give up.
Don't let AIDS tell you how to live. Get yourself as healthy as you can and let that MoFo follow YOU around, instead of dictating your life.
And my brother Kenny?! He was Kevin's most-fervent advocate. In his quiet way, he helped fight Kev's battles for, and with, him. He was ALWAYS there for Kev, as macho and subtle as Kev was as flaming and extroverted. And he's just as loved!
No comments:
Post a Comment