Today, World AIDS Day, I dedicate my post to children around the world who have lost parents to AIDS. The disease is certainly not exclusive to the gay community, but as children of gay parents, AIDS is part of our history and heritage.

This week, inspired by an article I read about Ana Matronic, I sent out a request asking for people to name their parents who have died of AIDS and to write anything else they wanted to share. Here’s what arrived in my in-box:

Alysia Abbott remembers her father, Steve Abbott. Alysia writes:

World AIDS Day is doubly significant for me as it falls just a day before December 2nd, when my father died of AIDS at the age of 48 in 1992.

He was a tender man, my dad, with light green eyes and a boyish grin. Friends would describe him as a cross between David Byrne and Mr. Rogers. (All Nebraska-bred folksiness and art-nerdy quirk.) This was when his face was clean-shaven, when he combed his hair each day with a palm-sized black comb he kept on the night table, beside his bed. When I was a little girl my dad wore a handle bar mustache, which made him look debonair but which now looks dated in photographs. I always loved his mustache and was heart-broken when he eventually shaved it off.

Had my dad lived he would be a grandfather but I can’t imagine him in the role. Wrinkles? Grey hair? Paunchy belly? It’s just not him. He’s forever 48.

But I do have a comic he made me (”Alysia and the Monsters”) framed and hanging above the changing table in my daughter’s room. Sometimes Annabel will gesture towards it and I’ll respond, “Grandpa Steve made that,” and I’ll read her the story replacing each “Alysia” with “Annabel.”

Hope Manley writes:

On World AIDS Day it is important for me to remember my Dad, David Berry. He lived to be 3 months short of 50 years old. He was a wonderful father and worked hard at being a great psychologist.

When he died in 1989 there was little understanding of how this disease infected and affect people living with it here in the United States. Now the world is challenged to understand how it is affecting the lives of people all over. My hope is that we all can do what we can to make the most positive impact we can to control this pandemic.

Jenny Laden in NYC remembers her father, Richard Laden. (Died February 15, 1996.) Jenny writes:

My father was a friend and a teacher and a source of unconditional love for me. He taught me how to dress, how to cook, how to listen to opera and musicals and how to be witty. He has been missed every day for 10 years. I miss him still. When he was dying I didn’t know anyone with a parent dying or dead from AIDS. I found love and support at a place in NYC called Friends In Deed and then found other people with gay parents living and dead, through COLAGE. We are not alone, but everyone’s grief is solitary. Just last week I dreamt I was sitting with him and he was crying. I held his hand, stroking it gently, knowing that all I can do is love him but it doesn’t make the sadness disappear.

Liz Baltes remembers her father, Stephen Bates Baltes. She writes:

My amazing father was a musical director, friend, and dad extraordinaire. He passed on November 5th, 2003, and yet I can still feel him daily around me, inspiring me with his energy, spirit, and love of music and life.

Noel Black in Colorado Springs, Colorado, remembers his dad, Phillip Black, who died of AIDS in November 1993. Noel writes:

He had lived with it since his diagnosis in 1985. He truly believed he would live long enough to receive a vaccine. It still saddens me to think that he missed protease inhibitors by just a couple of years. He was an architect and an all-around bon vivant. I can’t say he was the greatest father, but I’m not sure he felt like gay men could be, or should be, fathers at all. He also struggled his whole life with the guilt that came from his Southern Baptist upbringing in rural Oklahoma.

Though I was angry with him for many years, I’ve come to see his conflicted life in the broader context of history and the times. I think he would’ve enjoyed being a grandfather, and wish he knew my son. Fortunately we’re still close to his partner David and his boyfriend Mark. They’re also good friends with my mom and her girlfriend, and it all feels more like family than it did when I was growing up, and I’m truly thankful for that. Here’s to my dad! We did the best we could.

Paxye in Canada remembers her dad, Miguel Keith Kirkman, 1944 -1997. Paxye writes:

He is missed, he is loved and he will live on in my memories and in those of his grandchildren whom he never had the chance to meet.

Ragina (Gough) Lemon remembers her father, Danny Lee Gough 1953-1993 (diagnosed 1987 in Minneapolis). Gina writes:

Current Thoughts - Now that I’m married, I’ve noticed little things about my Dad that I took for granted when he was alive. For example, he loved to go to the movies. The interesting thing is that my husband also appreciates a good movie. I told this to my husband the other day, and I realized that this was a wonderful memory. It is in these moments that I just wish that he was still here.

Sarah remembers her father, Marc Doty. She writes:

He loved travel, and we took trips together around the country. He was an avid gardener and learner of languages. He took me to many natural places growing up so that I would share his love for the outdoors. He died in 1990 one week before my 12th birthday.

Tara Florian Bognar remembers her father, Marc Paré (1956-1995). Tara writes:

Marc was so scared before he died because even though he’d given up Catholicism, I don’t know if his heart really gave up Catholicism, and he didn’t know what would happen to a gay man after death. I’ve never been scared for him because I know: He was fiery and kind and good. I miss him every day and if there is some hereafter, I hope I’ll be good enough to end up wherever he has.

Whitney Moses remembers her father, Bill Moses. She writes:

So there’s me (whitney moses), my sister (vanessa moses), my mom (jean moses) and my father (bill moses), who died in 1991 at home. He was an amazing cook and a charming handsome man with an insatiable mind. My mother didn’t want me to talk about his death at the time. (It was right around the time that that kid got AIDS from a transfusion and was all over the media getting chased out of various school districts by fearful people) and I immediately disobeyed her and told my whole Girl Scout troop. They responded incredibly supportively and my mom thanked me for disobeying her. I spent this past thanksgiving with his side of the family and he is still missed.

In addition to the families above, I also want to remember the parents of those whose experiences are documented in “Silent Panic,” the chapter about AIDS in Families Like Mine:

Daniel Lessem’s father.
Danny Crosby’s father.
Diana’s father. (pseudonym)
Melanie Gates’ father.
Nancy’s father. (pseudonym)
Stefan Lynch’s father and stepfather.

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