A

Day To Remember

By: Joyce Williams

 rising.

The old grey Cadillac rolled to a stop in front of the small frame house on the

tree lined street in Texas. The day was crisp and clear and the temperature was

Our family had lived ten years with a sentence of deathbecause of a blood

transfusion containing the HIV virus. I recalled how our daughter, Lydia, had found comfort in rituals following the death of her nine-month-old son. On the first anniversary of Bryans death, Lydia planned a ceremonyread portions of his funeral service and released balloons. Another year the family planted a tree. Frantically, she looked for ways to deal with her grief. When Lydias own date with death came creeping close she capitalized on her love of the sea and her older sons love of dolphins. The mammal collection grew and shortly before her death Lydia located a final gifta bronze of three jumping dolphins. On a video of favorite stories she encouraged Matt to look at the dolphins and remember how much she loved him. So today, June 21stLydias birthday. Matt, in the end stage of AIDS, invited his uncle David and me to come to Dallas to celebrate his moms birthday. I didnt know what Matt had in mind but I knew he had the day carefully planned. Shortly after we arrived, Matts best friend, Zach, and his family came bringing a birthday cake. The white letters on chocolate frosting read: Happy Birthday, Lydia, we miss you! Under the lettering were three jumping dolphins. After pizza and cake, the agenda for the ceremony was announced. First, we would watch four videos. One showed a rolly-polly Matt at age two and a half in the park with his mom, his doctor and her three children. As Matt got to the top of the slide he announced loudly to himself, and all the other kids: Im not as scared. The next video was a professionally made account of Bryans House- a home conceptualized by Lydia to serve HIV positive children. The home was named for the

first child in Dallas County to die of AIDS. Tears streamed down my face as I recalled the five months Bryan lived after being diagnosed with HIV. Memories flooded my mind and Matts, I suspect, for Matt decided not to watch the next video. This one was made of Bryan the day before he died. During a pause in the videos, Matt asked each of us to recall a special memory of his mom. Mine was of the young girl whose French braids had grown so long she could sit on them and the day she decided to have them cut. Her ambivalent feelings about her new look were fresh in my memory. As the afternoon progressed, Matts strength faded. He asked to lie down on the couch to watch the last videohis favorite! This was the recording of his mom reading his favorite stories The Giving Tree and The Little Prince. When Matts dad asked that I read the book, I Miss My Little Brother, I agreed. Lydia had written it for Matt after Bryans death. As I sat beside Matt and turned to the first page, he began to read. I recalled how Lydia had coped with her approaching death by writing poetry, story books for Matt and notes of encouragement to family and friendsin spite of her pain an failing eyesight. To end our day, each person chose a different colored helium balloon. Matt wanted purple because it was his and his moms favorite color. We carried him outside in his wheelchair. One at a time we released our balloons. Ten - eleven twelve - the colors brilliant against a cloudless sky. The air currents moved the colored specks in a fan shape across the horizon. Then the specks began to shift. Slowly, as we watched, the balloons began to realign themselves. In a moment David shouted, Look, the balloons have made a perfect L. Soon, the newly formed L disappeared from sight What a day to remember!