I was born in 1971 in Louisiana, so much of the early tragedy of the 1980's I was unaware of, especially with Reagan and news ignoring the pleas of the dying.
Corey and I had been friends since Kindergarten. He was a great friend, and by the mid 1980's we were best friends. In 1986 he was my first kiss. I admired, and adored him. He was full of life, and was one who lived it to the fullest. He was fearless. In 1987, he started getting sick.. cold, after cold, after cold. Then the Thrush and skin lesions came. in December, just a couple of weeks before Christmas in 1987 he was diagnosed with Aids. His parents threw him out, and want nothing more to do with him, and he comes to live with myself, my mother, father and brother. He receives assistance from a group called Acadiana cares, and in March of 1988 Hospice care sets up in our home to help ease his pain. By the time Hospice came in Dementia had set in, and at only 72 pounds I could lift him from his bed with one arm. On April 30th of that year he drew in his last breath, only 17 years old.
When he passed, we needed his parents permission to make arrangements. Although they wanted nothing to do with him in life, they got a court order against me and my family, had his remains taken, cremated and buried in a secret, and we suspect unmarked location.
He was my first up close with this awful virus. Unfortunately he wasn't nearly my last.. but to this day still the one that hurt the most.
Every year I donate to Hospice care and Acadiana Cares.
It's a very odd feeling.. sitting here an typing this out. Although my family and close friends know this dark chapter from my childhood, I've never before felt either comfortable or inclined to share it with others.
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