In late 1990, I had been the consultant director of the National AIDS Counselling Training Unit in the UK for three years. It was mainly training hospital medical and nursing staff to effectively and sensitively care for people with HIV or dying from opportunistic infections. Social workers, outreach workers for drug users and sex worker…
In late 1990, I had been the consultant director of the National AIDS Counselling Training Unit in the UK for three years. It was mainly training hospital medical and nursing staff to effectively and sensitively care for people with HIV or dying from opportunistic infections. Social workers, outreach workers for drug users and sex workers, prison and police staff were also trained. I had been appointed to this role just when my lover and I split up. I wanted to die when we separated.
I had already said goodbye to several close friends, ex-short term sex partners and the like to AIDS. I supporting younger men, their partners and families as counsellor or therapist for those three years and faced 2 or 3 HIV-related deaths each week.
I had spent six weels on a research study tour of NY, Chicago and SF looking at services for people with HIV. The workers in SF were dealing with 40 or so HIV-related deaths per week. Many workers were themselves HIV+. One man impressed on me his belief that no one ever dies. Only their bodies cease to work. He insisted that spiritually we live for ever and never leave our corporeal loved ones.
When I arrived home to the UK at the beginning of December 1990, I entertained my parents for Christmas. My mother couldn't hold down food or liquids. They didn't ev en reach her stomach but were regurgitated within seconds od swallowing. She had osphageal cancer and opted to die at home. My sister, a nurse, and I scheduled our tork times to allow us care for her (and, of course, my father) for the next three months, as she starved to death.
Yes I grieved with her, dad and my siter as we prepared for her passing. I discussed what my SF colleague had said about living forever and keepong an eye on living nears and dears. She found it useful. Her aunt had been a trance medium in the spiritualist church so she could readily accept the idea of life after bodily death.
This idea kept me from being devastated by grief. Grief can be so devastating. I cannot claim any irrefutable evidence of the belief that no one ever dies when their body dies. Oh, and by the way I am now a close friend of my ex-partner and his husband. I love them both and they love me.
Ray, you have lived quite a full-dimensional life. Thank you for sharing some of highlights. I’m so glad you and your ex are still close. And his hubby too. What’s not to love? My condolences on your mom’s final earthly chapter. I’m sure having the family with her helped her transition. Peace, love, and light, Ray!
In late 1990, I had been the consultant director of the National AIDS Counselling Training Unit in the UK for three years. It was mainly training hospital medical and nursing staff to effectively and sensitively care for people with HIV or dying from opportunistic infections. Social workers, outreach workers for drug users and sex workers, prison and police staff were also trained. I had been appointed to this role just when my lover and I split up. I wanted to die when we separated.
I had already said goodbye to several close friends, ex-short term sex partners and the like to AIDS. I supporting younger men, their partners and families as counsellor or therapist for those three years and faced 2 or 3 HIV-related deaths each week.
I had spent six weels on a research study tour of NY, Chicago and SF looking at services for people with HIV. The workers in SF were dealing with 40 or so HIV-related deaths per week. Many workers were themselves HIV+. One man impressed on me his belief that no one ever dies. Only their bodies cease to work. He insisted that spiritually we live for ever and never leave our corporeal loved ones.
When I arrived home to the UK at the beginning of December 1990, I entertained my parents for Christmas. My mother couldn't hold down food or liquids. They didn't ev en reach her stomach but were regurgitated within seconds od swallowing. She had osphageal cancer and opted to die at home. My sister, a nurse, and I scheduled our tork times to allow us care for her (and, of course, my father) for the next three months, as she starved to death.
Yes I grieved with her, dad and my siter as we prepared for her passing. I discussed what my SF colleague had said about living forever and keepong an eye on living nears and dears. She found it useful. Her aunt had been a trance medium in the spiritualist church so she could readily accept the idea of life after bodily death.
This idea kept me from being devastated by grief. Grief can be so devastating. I cannot claim any irrefutable evidence of the belief that no one ever dies when their body dies. Oh, and by the way I am now a close friend of my ex-partner and his husband. I love them both and they love me.
Ray, you have lived quite a full-dimensional life. Thank you for sharing some of highlights. I’m so glad you and your ex are still close. And his hubby too. What’s not to love? My condolences on your mom’s final earthly chapter. I’m sure having the family with her helped her transition. Peace, love, and light, Ray!