My Friend

I found out tonight that my beautiful friend, Rosalee, passed away earlier this week.

I am devastated.

I blogged about Rosalee and our friendship about a month ago. Since that blog, I was able to see her...we went to breakfast and shared laughs and near-tears and basked in the beauty of our friendship. She started to fade and so I took her home. Nothing doing, I had to go in and sit and continue our conversation. If I had known that was the last time I was going to see her, I would have said so much more than I did.

I am confident that she knows that I love her and adore her. I miss her so much already.

Her diagnosis of pancreatic cancer got me to writing poetry again. Well...one poem. I have not yet finished it. It's about her. I think subconsciously I thought if I didn't finish it, she would remain with us.

I now need to finish it. If there's an opportunity, I'd like to share it at her memorial, which is yet to be planned. I so wanted her to hear it. I wanted her to know that she inspired creativity and that so many people were able to "get" poetry.

Rest in Peace, my beautiful friend. 

Your spirit lives within me.

I will always love you.

Happy Memories for a Tragic Time

There's a saying that God only grants difficulties to those who can handle them. I'm beginning to think that's a line of bullshit.

I have a friend - Rosalee - who is one of THE most marvellous women I've ever met. Beautiful, talented, funny, spiritual, loving, kind...she brings light, joy, love to everyone she meets. A strong feminist Latina, she's had several volumes of poetry published, and yet she has a Marilyn Monroe-like sexuality; she flirts and acts coy but you just know she's in control.

I met Rosalee briefly at a cast party for a production of "Evita" she and a mutual friend were in way back in '86. We later reconnected at auditions for a theater production the following year. The theater was doing an "original" show to celebrate the city's centennial celebration. We basically took the audience through 100 years of entertainment. The first scene took place in a saloon with can-can girls and a woman being lowered on a swing while singing "She's only a bird...in a gilded cage...." Eventually a brawl breaks out and my good friend Roxie ends up on my shoulders, her skirt over my head, while she and Rosalee scratch fight as we whirled off stage. We had a fantastic time during that show and became fast friends. We spent spare time together and our shared interests of theater, poetry, vampires, and of course hot young men cemented our friendship. I became "Aunt Markus" to her 7th grader son who accepted me for my quirkiness because I was "mom's friend." She really raised him right; he's warm, caring, and accepting of all.

Rosalee, her best friend, and I used to hold hands and dance and attempt to seduce young men. We laughed and talked of stars and flowers and waves of peace flowing over the earth to heal it from the crap man had done to it. We were the hippies of the 80s & 90s. 

One summer she and I went to the bar at Acapulco Mexican restaurant and proceeded to attempt to pick up on a hunky golden construction worker who actually seemed as interested in me as he was in her. We played games with men that way...if he wanted to play he had to play with us both.

One of the things I most love about Rosalee is if she likes you she's 100% supportive. She once got me to writing poetry again...and I joined her poetry group. We'd get together and share and offer feedback and discuss the imagery of our poems. I always thought my stuff was crap until I heard some of the others' stuff! Rosalee always assured me that I was brilliant. I liked to believe it. And of course, her poems were miracles...on the surface it sounded like she was talking of dead leaves on the lawn but in reality she was talking about the devastation of war. The woman is a genius.

In 2003-4 she was diagnosed with ovarian cancer. My beautiful, smart, funny, talented friend fought with all her might...and overcame. Her hair grew back, she grew strong and had a small part in a play.

In 2010 the cancer came back. Again she fought although this time she was scared. It took longer and took a toll on her but she won the fight. And she was rewarded with the long overdue birth of her grandson. She celebrated her 60th birthday - a much quieter affair than her 50th but still a celebration.

And now...my friend has been diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. I am devastated. It is not fair. Too much has been heaped on this wonderful woman.

She asked me to tell our theater friends and I've sent emails and posted private messages on Facebook; I'm not publicly announcing this horrendous news. I am trying to keep her spirits up with emails, calls, cards...and reminding her she's a grandma and we all need her.

I have asked far too many favors from my cyber friends and blog followers; but I must ask that you keep Rosalee in your prayers, thoughts, spiritual recitations...that whatever god, goddess, higher power, source of energy that you believe in be beseeched on her behalf for a healing. Her grandson is a mere 4 years old...he needs to grow up with this fantastic "Auntie Mame" type grandmother...so if you can see your way...please indulge me.

Here is a taste of Rosalee reading one of her poems.

I've started working on my own poem to honor Rosalee. I think she'd be proud.


BEHR HUGS

Friday Friendship

The power of the Internet is an amazing thing...included in that are the various apps available on our smart phones. As shared in previous posts, I have a voyeuristic tendency, and thus my use of GROWLr, the app for bears, cubs, chasers, and others. 

I recently started communicating with a handsome guy who lives in Istanbul. Take a look:

We've moved from GROWLr to Bear411 (a social networking site) and Facebook (the ultimate social networking site). He's a very sweet, lovable, sincere man. I'd be lying if I didn't admit to wishing he lived closer.

I've also started chatting with someone else who is closer. From his GROWLr profile one would think he's only looking for hookups...but this second gentleman has professed a desire to get to know me as a friend. He says there's something about my picture that makes him shy and nervous, afraid of rejection, but also courageous enough to be whatever I want him to be and to give me whatever I want from him. (I will not mention his 11.5" appendage. Nope. Not even going to mention it.) He says I bring him feelings of joy and he thanks me for the positive vibe I give him.

So what's my point? My point is that despite what the conservatives and Far Right may say about us dirty homosexuals, we ARE capable of friendships that do not revolve around sex. Don't get me wrong...sex is good. It's great! It can be a marvelous bonding tool. But there's more to life - and more to relationships - than sex.

I recently posted about doing the Kidney Walk (this Sunday) and that I'm raising funds. I am truly touched by all those who made a donation. And no, I'm not trying to guilt anyone here...merely using this as an example of the love, friendship, and good will that exists among us. I feel an affinity for my followers and cyber friends. I may fantasize about them (did I say may??), but it's the friendship that makes me who I am. When I'm feeling melancholy I can turn to this here blog and will get those messages of encouragement and friendship from all over the globe.

So thank you...each and every one of you for what you give me. I love you all!

BEHR HUGS 

Downfall of a Friend

I'm feeling the need to blather which, on second thought, really is what this blog spot was supposed to be about rather than the pictures of furry bearded men that I post. Not that I - or, from the comments I receive, anyone else - am complaining.

I'm warning you...this is long. Very long. Probably too long.

Before I get onto it I wanted to explain the accompanying toon. I love Ralph Wiggums from The Simpsons. And of course I love Smokey the Bear. So when I found this I laughed and decided I'd have to find a place to use it. When Behr Blather was born (actually reborn since it started over on Yahoo 360, that POS), I realized I had the perfect "pic" on the blather. So..if anyone was wondering...that's the story.

I mentioned the other day (see here) that I received some not-so-great news about a friend, K. (Using initials to protect the identity of these folks.) Well B left me a Facebook message asking me to call him. I figured he wanted to ask me out for the umpteenth time (he once had a crush on me I think). So I called and left a message and he returned the call. He said he was worried about K because he couldn't get a hold of him. Other acquaintances could not either. Evidently K was very ill and living with his brother. So I told B that I would call C about K. C is my friend although we're perhaps not as good or great of friends as I would like, but we feel close enough to call each other "sister." (That's whole 'nother Oprah.)

I called C and told him I had a disturbing phone call and he replied that he'd had a disturbing phone call from S - who happens to be my ex. (Are you with me? K is ill, B is the bearer of bad news, C is my "sister" and S is my ex. Anyone need a score card??) C and I talked and both agreed that we'd each give it a day or so instead of bombarding K with emails. Evidently phone calls and text messages are o-u-t. Anyway, C dropped the bombshell (something B didn't tell me maybe he assumed I knew): K is HIV positive and his condition (lung infection) is due to having full-blown AIDS.

We've all known someone or many someones who have passed away from this insidious disease. But the majority of those deaths were before the cocktails that seem to be staving off the inevitable. Now you may be wondering how K could develop AIDS with the drug cocktails available. He doesn't take drugs. Not even prescription drugs. He believes that doctors, nurses, hospitals, and pharmaceutical companies are part of some evil fascist government conspiracy. So whenever he's been sick - cold, flu, headache, whatever - he's treated himself holistically. Now I'm not knocking holistic medicine; I believe it has its value. I just don't think it works for diseases that have reared their ugly heads in the 20th Century. Maybe I'm naive.

I think the most difficult thing about this is I never knew of K's HIV status. I've known him since 2004 - actually met him through S - and I love K dearly. We never played because that would be incestuous. However, S dated K before he dated me and I know S and K had sex. Whether there was an exchange of bodily fluids I do not know. I'm not worried; although I should be tested just to be certain everything is ok with the Behr on that front.

I have been feeling guilty as well since it was June when I last spoke to K. I know I had called him on his birthday in May, and I was the only one - he said - who called him. I knew he had been ill but when I last had a message from him he stated he was on the road to recovery. He also spoke about some evil fascist doctor and his mystical Indian-swami-guru-maharishi- whatever. Unfortunately, I allowed time to slip by, being busy with work and my house and trying to find some direction myself. For some silly reason I was telling a co-worker about this and she told me to stop beating myself off. I mean up, about this because communication is a two-way street.

I did email K a few days ago. He only replied "thank you for your love." Maybe he doesn't have the strength to type more. Maybe he is hurt that we're not rallying around him despite the no calls, no texts, no visitors admonishment.

I've thought of emailing S about K's condition; I know S will be honest - brutally so - and I would have a better picture from him of what's going on. However, I have not spoken to S for a little over 3 years (again, a whole 'nother Oprah). I don't fancy the idea of communicating with him or having him think that I'm reopening the lines of communication. *SIGH* It's really rather complicated, at least from where I sit.

So. That's the deal. I know that we all have to die at some time. But not this way. Not alone without your friends of some ugly disease that the government has practically ignored. I don't want to email K and say the wrong thing - like giving him the impression I'm writing him off or that it's useless or whatever. On the other hand, I really don't know what to say. What the f--k do you say to someone who is dying? I'm out of practice with this sort of thing. I held the hand of someone special to me as he slipped from this world; that is the most terrifying and soul-wrenching experience. And if you're not allowed to visit the person how is one to let him know that he has a place in your heart and will always be a part of you?

For now I think I must be content with limited knowledge of K's condition and just send him a "thinking of you" email every so often. I really do not know what else to do.

*SIGH* I always feel better when I write out this sort of drama. Thanks to those who read through this. BEHR HUGS