I Wish I Had Cancer

That's what Richard said to me one day, and he meant it.

Richard was an odd duck that I worked with back in Texas. The year was 1994. He was a few years older than me, maybe 30-35 years. He grew up in a rural area, east of Dallas, had travelled around the world, and just recently had come home to live. Or die, as the case may be.

He'd never married, but came close once. His fiancee had been killed in an auto accident a few months before their wedding. It was an event he would live to fully grieve twice in his life.

His father had been an Over The Road (OTR) driver for many years, and loved the open road. He wanted Richard to follow in his footsteps, and made him promise to try it for two years. He did, and hated every minute of it. But out of love for his family, and respect for his father, he gave it the full two years, to the day.

For a while, he was a customs agent, working along the border. Now THAT was a job he loved - there's a certain amount of power & authority that came with it that made him feel good. He described, with a bit of glee, some incidents where he got the upper hand with people who came through - he could search, confiscate and destroy property with abandon, without the legal constraints that hinder the police. No search warrant needed!

Something happened - he never said what - and a group of them were forced to 'retire', and change their names. He thought about it for a while, and chose a new identity. The day he showed up in court for the name change, he made a spur of the moment decision, and chose the Judge's last name instead for his new life.

One day he was on an airplane, sitting next to a priest. They got to chatting, and the Priest invited him to Hawaii to work in his mission - room & board provided, plus a small stipend for living expenses. Poverty to be sure, but Hawaii nonetheless! He lived there for about four years, enjoying the island life, the sunshine, the breezes and the people. It was there he met the young woman who changed his life.

She gave him AIDS.

Back then, AIDS was a death sentence. It had really only been around about ten years, and there wasn't much that was known about controlling it, living with it. His family was there for him, taking care of him, being with him through the final days, in many ways but one.

AIDS had a reputation of being 'the Gay Disease', and getting it (especially in homophobic Texas) held a certain stigma, and embarrassment that other diseases didn't have. His family was ashamed of him. He might as well have had leprosy, and been banished to a leper colony for all the support and understanding he received at home. The man who sacrificed two years of his life to live his father's dream was suddenly the family's nightmare.

At first, he told the people at work that he had cancer. My brother had died of cancer, and my mother was going through it, so I knew that was a lie. From the lesions he had, I'd already guessed the truth the day he decided to confess. We accepted him, and supported him as he went through his trials, and for a while - we were his family.

When we talked about regrets, choices in life, and the left-turns that come along, he grieved for his lost love. You can't live your life on what ifs, but sometimes you have to wonder - would he be dying today if she had lived?

"I wish I had cancer", he said. "I've lived a full life, and don't want to ask for more....but I wish I could give my family a respectable death." That really struck me - that even at this late date, he felt like his family's love was conditional. He left email for all of us the day he quit, little pieces of humor, shared stories and inside jokes.

My wish is that everyone who dies of an insidious disease - whether it be AIDS or cancer, morbid obesity or diabetes - has lived their life to the fullest, knows unconditional love, and feels sure that their death is a respectable one.

It may be too much to expect, but it's never too much to ask.

--BT