2022 Blog: Say No and Trust, The Universe Has Your Back
In the mid 1980’s when the AIDS crisis hit, I was living in LA. The marvelous author and cancer survivor, Louise Hay, held a weekly support meeting she called “The Hay Ride,” in an old, high school gymnasium. The price of admission was a can of food, if you had the means to donate. Meetings started with a simple campfire-style song that began “I love myself the way I am, there’s nothing I need to change…” We all joined in this childlike, self-acceptance ritual before the shock of hearing stories from people recently diagnosed. As they passed around the cordless microphone, the stories unfolded, revealing most of the attendees were terrified, young, gay men. Me and my friend, two straight women fans of Ms. Hays book, “You can Heal Your Life” were in the minority.
Within 48 hours of his diagnosis, Dave was called into the manager’s office at work and fired on the spot. He went to his sister’s where he was very close to and loved by his two-year-old niece. His sister wouldn’t let him in the door, much less hold the child. Abandoned by family, somehow his landlord learned of his diagnosis, and coming home he found a pink eviction notice dangling from his door. Locked out of his apartment, unable to gather any belongings, a friend’s couch now his home tonight. His gentle voice shook as he took the mic, his words brave yet matter-of-fact in the telling. I was in awe of his courage when he approached us on a break and said to my friend, who had shared her feelings of vulnerability within her marriage, “I want to be friends with you before I die.”
After his funeral, we strangers sat outdoors, awkwardly balancing paper plates of little sandwiches and salads on our laps. One woman broke down in tears of grief and guilt, sobbing over how badly she felt because of a night when Dave had called and she had to say, “No, I can’t help you right now.” My friend spoke up and explained that same night she had the flu and had to say no, as well. The stories of no continued until all but one of us had revealed our very reasonable reason. All of us sat tense, frozen in the sunshine with unforgiving, horrible guilt.
The last person in the circle, all eyes on her, said, “I was the last person on Dave’s list.” She explained, “I just learned from your stories, that Dave in his last few months asked everyone friend or foe, to do something for him, to connect. That night, if any one of you had said yes, he wouldn’t have gotten his wish: to be at peace with everyone before he died.” Dave asked me to bake him some chocolate chip cookies. At first, I said, “No.” he told me he was dying, and didn’t want to do it alone. We sat and talked for almost an hour, eating cookies and laughing about things that didn’t matter anymore.
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