Research by numerous scholars who have studied marriage, sexuality and kinship throughout US history supports the view that diverse types of families, including families built on same-sex partnerships, have existed across time, even as law and government have accorded some of those families unequal status.  Laws and customs regulating marriage, as well as the US Constitution, have not been static, but have tended to increase the number of people entitled to claim the benefits and responsibilities of legal marriage.  Because no evidence exists that a viable democracy depends upon defining marriage as the union of one man and one woman, it is troubling that those against gay marriage use that premise as the cornerstone of their argument.

Marriage has been a fluid institution throughout history.  There were times when marriage to multiple spouses was accepted (not just in American history, either, but in world history).  There were times, even within the early church, when same-sex unions were accepted and supported.

The inarguable truth of fluid definitions of marriage in history, while certainly correct, is not a rational justification for any position on the issue of gay marriage.  Based on that premise, one might with equal justification argue that, because marriage has been fluid throughout history, people should be free to marry multiple spouses, immediate family members, or ten-year-old children.  That's why you won't see me use that cheap answer to a complicated question.

Yet the argument against gay marriage is based on the false presumption that same-sex unions will somehow denigrate the sanctity of marriage as an institution.  The argument even goes so far as to claim that gay marriage will cause the downfall of our democracy.

Once I stopped laughing at that one, I thought some level of comparison was in order.

Those who so readily call for amending the Constitution in order to stop homosexual marriage must be the same people who thought it was acceptable for Britney Spears to get married for one night, only to annul the bond the next day.

These are also the same people who believe it's perfectly within their definition of marriage to see two strangers play to a television audience in order to get married for $1,000,000.

Am I to believe, with only these two examples (and don't make me come up with more), that gay marriages would somehow degrade marriage for everyone else?

It's a well documented fact that the majority of heterosexual marriages end in divorce.  Is this not a blatant attack on the sanctity of marriage?  Would it not be prudent to outlaw divorce in order to ensure our democracy doesn't crumble at our feet?

Since the dissolution, rather than the creation, of a marriage tends to more effectively undermine its purported sanctity, I believe it important for all good Christians to stop for a moment and remember that Jesus himself said, "Whatsoever God hath joined together, let no man cast asunder."  That, as you may know, is Matthew 19:6, another of the inconvenient bible verses so many right-wing dimwits choose to ignore.  The idea that denying marriage rights to a group would somehow alter the downward spiral marriage has taken in the last few decades is as laughable as it is offensive.

But the bible didn't stop there with regards to marriage, so neither shall we.

Jesus also mentioned (in Matthew 5:32 and Matthew 19:9) that any follower who married more than once would be committing adultery.  As we all know, adultery is a sin according to the bible.  Why do I not hear this being preached at the heathen masses who divorce and remarry at will, as if it's a sport to see who can do it most often?

I am confused as to why these things are not attacked as assaults on the sanctity of marriage or the cause of an eventual downfall of our democracy.

The argument against same-sex marriages, especially if based on the idea of trying to protect marriage, is horrifically misguided and unable to see its very own faults.  Those most adamant about stopping gay marriage are likely the biggest investors in divorce and multiple marriages.

For that reason, I offer an alternative, a different approach to the overall question which should appease everyone.

All the self-titled protectors of marriage shouldn't mind if all civil and legal rights for spouses were forbidden, making marriage a strictly religious or spiritual union.  Marital status could not be used to discriminate — no different tax status, no superior rights of inheritance, no extra medical benefits, no special hospital visitation rights, and so on.  If marriage is indeed a strong institution requiring protection, that will be the truest test of it and would alleviate all of the legal arguments against homosexual marriages.

Yet I very much doubt that such a move would even be considered.

In the ever expanding race to discover planets outside of our own solar system, two new planets were recently discovered that are more like Neptune than Jupiter (as most planets discovered thus far have been gas giants like Jupiter and Saturn).  Scientists are becoming increasingly certain that, as our technological ability to locate extra-solar planets becomes more finely tuned, we bring ourselves closer to discovering Earth-like planets — that is, planets of the appropriate size and density to support life and orbiting their sun at a distance which would make the planet habitable.

Since the number of extra-solar planets discovered is rapidly approaching 200, the most recent of which have been smaller than the gas giants we've discovered to date, I believe it's only a matter of time before we begin to locate planets like Earth orbiting distant stars.  In addition, as we continue to realize our galaxy is full of planets of varying kinds, the idea that we are the only life in such a vast conglomeration of stars becomes inarguably more remote.

This recent addition to the Random Thoughts database is in honor of Derek.  Although he's still alive, I believe this quote from Ambrose Bierce very accurately describes the situation he now finds himself in.  May your path be clear and lighted, and may your loved ones find the strength to help you on your journey without unnecessary delay and suffering.  Go in peace, go and rest, go with all of our love.

Death is a dignitary who, when he comes announced, is to be received with formal manifestations of respect, even by those most familiar with him.

— Ambrose Bierce

I received a call last Sunday that Derek had taken a significant turn for the worse.  You may remember that he recently moved back to his hometown so his family could care for him since he's been so sick for the last two years.  Having only been back home for a week or so, I had hoped — against my better judgment — that his health would hold up for a while longer.  Sadly that is not the case.

Derek began having seizures late Saturday evening.  They continued through Sunday morning.  They moved him to ICU Sunday morning, but by then he was catatonic — near comatose.  The lymphoma in his head had continued to grow despite the radiation treatment.  In fact, it would be safe to say it took several leaps forward in size — the doctors called it dramatic growth.  It had moved beyond simply impacting his brain and thereby putting pressure on it and was now actually fully involved in his brain.  That means the mass had actually infiltrated his brain tissue.

He remained subjugated by his own mind until Tuesday, at which point he started speaking again.  That's when I saw him.  He was completely incoherent, unable to remember me or anyone in his family and unable to display any cognitive function outside of complete dementia.  There were moments of clarity, but they were short and rare.  Most of what he said was random, garbled junk that his mind was spewing forth.  There was no logical order to what he said.  He simply existed in his own world, almost completely separated from reality.

He even had to be restrained for a few days due to the violent outbreaks caused by his mental state.

As the week continued, his condition improved only slightly due in part to the increase in anti-inflammatory steroids he was given.  By reducing the inflammation around the brain, he was able to regain some clarity of thought.

But not much.

He would often forget where he was, that he was sick, what he had, and why his family was around.  His conversations were broken and at least half gibberish, random thoughts bubbling to the surface and unexpectedly interjecting themselves into his thought processes.

And that was only the beginning.

His physical condition began to deteriorate quickly.  Over the course of two days he had a significant outbreak of skin lesions.  He ran a temperature almost every evening despite the fact that no specific infection could be identified (although all the signs were there to indicate multiple infections were present).

Throughout the week I gauged how well his mental state had been restored.  Despite the physical ailments which seemed to be popping up from all directions, if his mental state was strong and he had clarity of thought, he would fight for survival.

To my dismay, Derek was already gone.  Although he regained some clarity of thought and was able to function at least partially well (in a mental sense), he continued to suffer from random amnesia, often forgetting where he was, why his family was there, why they knew he was sick, what had happened in both the near and far past, and, most sadly, he suffered from an almost Tourette's-like tendency to randomly and constantly vocalize the thoughts literally running through his head.  Some of these outbursts were questions about what hospital he was in, where he was, why his family was there, what did he have, and was it treatable.  Others were statements ranging from his disease to his sexual persona to his job — the job he lost in January of this year.

He often forgot where he was.  It was not surprising to here "What hospital am I in?" two dozen times in the same day.  It was also not surprising to have to repeat the same information many times before the topic changed, only to have to repeat it again later because he still could not remember the answer.

It probably comes as no surprise to anyone reading this, if you've seen the other posts about Derek, that he has HIV/AIDS.  His CD4 count is 23 (officially AIDS is anything below 200, and normal counts range from 500-1,500).  He has been suffering from opportunistic infections for the last three years and has been in the most violent throes of the disease for the last two years (hospitalized for about the last 18 months).

Having seen this before, I knew that the diagnosis of AIDS-related primary central nervous system lymphoma was an indication of the final stages of the disease.  How rapidly one progresses from there is individual — there's no one-size-fits-all prognosis.

In Derek's case, he would progress rapidly.

As his family is still coming to terms with his illness and condition, all of this seems very sudden to them.  I keep trying to help them understand that it's not sudden at all — we've been dealing with this for two years, most of which has been spent with him in the hospital and unable to care for himself or manage his own life.

So they are now faced with the most difficult test of love — when it's time to say goodbye.

I've made it clear to them that, having known Derek for the last eight years and having been through the horrible progression of the disease over the last two years, he's nearing the end of his journey.  Whether it was months or weeks, it would be self-deceptive to think in terms of years with regards to his remaining lifespan.  And Derek would not have wanted to have his life prolonged in this state, with no hope of recovery, with no hope of carrying on any semblance of life as he knew it, with a rapidly declining ability to differentiate reality from the deluge of waking dreams which now assault him so long as he is awake (and he can only sleep with the help of drugs).

And now the real challenge unfolds.

Derek is already gone.  In the last week I have realized that.  The man I knew and cared for and loved deeply as a dear and close friend is gone and will never return.  Who he is now is only a shadow of who he was.  Who he is now is not who he will be tomorrow or the day after.  From this point forward, each passing day will see a little (or a lot) more of Derek slip away, leaving behind a shell of the man he once was.  And his rapid mental decline is only a part of the issue as his physical state is following the same path.  His body is literally being destroyed from the inside out by multiple infections working on multiple levels.

The worst news was yet to come, though.

Tests indicate that the HIV infection is now directly attacking his brain.  So it's a mental double-whammy.  Not only is the lymphoma assaulting him on the macroscopic level, but HIV is attacking him on the microscopic level.

I've tried to make clear to his family that his mental decline will be rapid.  His physical decline will follow, but at a slightly slower pace.  This will result in Derek leaving long before his body dies.

So today I had a serious discussion with them about letting go, about easing his pain and suffering and letting him go peacefully rather than extending his life only to prolong his suffering.  This is a selfish act, and I know they don't wish to travel that road.

But they are struggling with the decision to pull the life-sustaining care while maintaining the comfort care.  They feel they need more time.  They don't want to let him go.

Love is a two-edged sword.  On one side we have our desire to ensure the longevity of a loved one.  On the other side we have our desire not to want them to suffer, not to prolong their misery.  It takes true love to know which side must be used when and to have the strength to use it accordingly.

I believe I've catalyzed the discussion and pushed them in the right direction, but the final decision is theirs.  I only hope they love him enough and can find the inner strength necessary to do what is right.

I know that the Derek I knew is already gone.  The part of him that remains — this shell, this rapidly declining specter of the man that once was — deserves to be set free.  This is what he would want.

I weep for Derek.  I weep for what is already lost and what is to come, whether prolonged agony or a quiet, comfortable move to final peace.  I hope it is the latter.  He deserves that much.

As the Indian poet Rabindranath Tagore once said, "Death is not the extinguishing of the light… it is the putting out of the lamp because the dawn has come."

fear
trapped inside oneself
darkness
then bright lights
darkness again
cry for help
no one hears
one person stops to listen
understands
gives courage

[circa 1984]

Very few are born to riches or gain them later in life.  Very few will ever live the dream that they choose.  Very few are ever famous.  Very few of cherished wishes ever come true.  Very few of tomorrow's promises are ever realized.

Yet we sacrifice every day of our lives to tomorrow's promise, as though each of us had a presentiment of the road we are bound to travel — a road paved with the promises of every dream left unfulfilled and every worthy goal, a road over which dangles the cosmic carrot we feel compelled to follow.

For most, this road is an endless pursuit of the unachievable, mired in shadow and empty promises, the promises chased through existence without realization.

But at what cost?

Life's countervailing reality, contrary to our own behest, conflates the imaginary world we pursue with every breath.  Step by step we presume to know that our journey is bringing us closer to that which we dedicate our lives to achieving, yet how many of us truly reach fulfillment?  How many of us, when this earthbound life is through, can honestly say that we have achieved all that we set out to achieve?

We sacrifice the joy and happiness of today in the hope of seeing them again tomorrow.  We assure ourselves that the promise of a better life is reason enough to sacrifice that which we already hold.  Some believe this to be providential while others believe it to be the very definition of life.

I will not debate that which is known so well — that we cannot sacrifice tomorrow for the pleasures of today, that day-to-day existence is not living but surviving.  While I would not presume to debate that assertion, I offer for consideration the premise that neither should we sacrifice today for tomorrow's promise.

This thought came to me the other day which took a while to understand:  we should plan for tomorrow, but we must live today.  A dream somehow transformed into a vision, as if I could touch it with my hand, yields the truth of tomorrow's promise.

Life is to be lived.  We do not live in tomorrow; we live in today.  If we sacrifice today for tomorrow's promise, we have not lived but have instead only dreamed of living, we have sacrificed life for promise.

I believe the things in dreams can be the same as reality if we so choose.

So I choose to live.  I choose to live today in the hope that tomorrow's promise will be fulfilled.  I choose to enjoy life while I live it rather than planning for a tomorrow which may never come.  I choose to take every breath with the understanding that I am not guaranteed another.  I choose to reach for tomorrow's promise without sacrificing today's fulfillment.  I choose to cherish every moment spent in the now without losing sight of what may be in the future.

I do not intend to survive.  I intend to live.

I may plan for tomorrow, I may hope for tomorrow, and I may reach for tomorrow, but I will not do so at the expense of today.

My life is of today.  My dreams are of tomorrow.

May I have the courage to live today and dream of tomorrow.  May I experience life as I live it rather than through the regrets of too many yesterdays.  May I live each day so as to have no regrets tomorrow.  May I see tomorrow's promise through living today and enjoying the memories of yesterday.

Yesterday was Kazon's turn to visit the vet for his annual exam and vaccinations.  Despite his dislike of being taken out of his element, he did fine.

The vet said he was in perfect health — teeth look good, heart is strong with a better-than-average rate, lungs are clear, muscle tone is excellent, and the list goes on.

Hiding his head as far under my arm as he could get without coming out the other side, he was calm and relaxed while being poked and prodded.  Despite being violated in such a horrific manner, Kazon was a very good boy for the vet and got his claws clipped, temperature taken (the worst violation of all), and all the other activities they must endure every year.

He got his rabies shot, the only vaccination he's getting this year, and was sent home with a clean bill of health.

Because I was too busy yesterday to do it, today will be treat day for The Kids.

In what can only be described as the perfect reaction to a terrible situation, Derek's family swept into town en masse and quickly took charge of his situation.  After two years of taking care of him through some very terrible health crises — most recently the realization that he had an aggressive form of lymphoma — I couldn't have hoped for a better response.

I've spent the last two weeks getting them up to date on every aspect of his life to date — from health to finances and everything in between.  Like me, his family saw how well he responded to their presence, so he readily agreed that moving back to his hometown to be with his family was the best option.

So last Thursday he was flown out of Dallas and transferred to a hospital near his family in New York state (I'm intentionally being coy with the details so as not to parade Derek's private information around the world wide web).

I and my friends helped get his things packed and shipped to New York, worked closely with the family to bring them up to speed on his diagnoses and prognoses, assist with their assimilation of his financial status, and prepare and execute all of the appropriate paperwork to grant them access to his life — from medical information and doctors to finances.

Only a few days after his departure, it amazes me how much I miss him.  The apartment seems so very empty now, albeit part of that is the size of the place.  One man and four cats simply can't make a three bedroom, 1200-square foot apartment feel completely occupied.

Yet I am left with a hole in my life, a hole which had been filled with the very overwhelming activities related to caring for a terminally ill person.  But that's not all.

Derek and I are kindred spirits.  We shared a home for many years as close friends, enjoying intelligent conversation, similar interests in food and entertainment, enjoying mutual friends, and the list goes on.

It's important to understand that I've practically lived alone for the last year-and-a-half.  For all but two months of that time Derek was in the hospital.  But that failed to prepare me for his departure.

Even while he was in the hospital, there was always the very real possibility that he would be returning home if his health warranted such a move (equaled by the very real possibility that he would never leave the hospital alive).  Now that he's gone, being alone is a very real thing, not just a temporary state of being.

Yet my apprehension at being a lone bachelor again (something I've not experienced in 13 years) is balanced by my happiness that Derek is in a place where he can be happier and better cared for.  It's not that he wasn't happy here or that his care was sub par, but I am only one man who was trying to be all things for someone who was no longer able to care for himself.

With his family, on the other hand, he has more than two dozen people who love him and want to help take care of him.  As I explained to them before they left to take him home, the sacrifices I made to take care of him were massive and overwhelming, but they don't have to worry about that because, with such a large family, if each person sacrifices only a little it will more than adequately cover everything.

Before they left we saw a very real improvement in Derek's situation.  I believe it was in response to his family's roborant presence.  They were with him all day every day, something I and my friends couldn't offer or provide.

I am now in the process of getting my life together so I can move on, looking for a new place to live temporarily while Rick and I plan something more permanent (more on that at a later time).  The sooner I get out of this apartment the better, as it's a reminder of the life that was but is no more.

So, as I prepare to step out in a new direction with my own life, Derek is doing likewise under the care of his very loving family.

I wish you luck, my friend, and I hope the environment you now find yourself in is conducive to continued improvement in your health.  Don't lose touch, don't forget your friends in Texas, and remember that we love you.

Get well soon.

Loki went to the vet on Saturday for his annual exam and shots.  He was a good boy, albeit a bit pitiful in the crying and moaning departments.  Not as laid back as Grendel, Loki doesn't like being taken out of his element (home), but he survived.

The doc said he's in great condition — teeth look good, muscle tone is excellent, heart and lungs sound fine, and the list goes on.

So he got his rabies and distemper shots and was sent home with a clean bill of health.

Because my schedule Saturday was so hectic and yesterday was even worse, there was no treat for him.  But I'm making up for that today.  You see, when any of the kids have to suffer trauma like that (although I think it's drama, they think it's trauma), everyone gets a treat to make it all better.

So tonight's treat night for the whole lot of them.

I decided to do away with the guestbook for now (yes, again).  No particular reason other than I think comments, email and other forms of communication are working fine.  I'll reconsider the whole guestbook idea at a later time but, for now anyway, it's history.