-February 2003-

After living two years in NYC, I finally put my stones in right places. I got a job and work visa. I decided it was time to keep my promise which I made to myself after sudden death of my friend Frank. I wanted to help for HIV people, since Frank had been HIV positive. I went to GMHC (gay men health crisis) I asked them to volunteer for their buddy program. Basically after extensive training, they were going to give me someone who had aids and was in great needs to take care of. I was going to handle his chores, talk to him and entertain him somehow.

I got really comprehensive training. We did role plays. Instructors said some people could be very demanding. They could ask for outrages requests.  As buddies we must set boundaries in the begging. I got little tense but I was willing to do this job. I wanted to do it right.

They gave me a phone  number. Person’s name was Don. He was 65 years old, living by himself. He had aids since 1986. His life partner had died 3 years ago because of aids.  I remembered vividly the day I called him. It was on a cold Saturday morning. While phone was ringing, my hands were sweating. Suddenly someone picked the phone.

“Hi! My name is Z. I’m calling from GMHC buddy program. Can I speak to Don?”

“Yes! This is Don” His voice was very soft and mellow.  

“Hi Don! I’m your new buddy. I really would to meet with you.” There was 3 seconds silence  

 “Aaaahh! I’m in a lot of pain today. Can you call me back on Monday? We can set up something” 

 “OH! Sorry! I will call you on Monday! Have a great weekend!”

I called him on Monday. We decided to meet at his apartment on Thursday. On Thursday I was very anxious. His apartment was Upper West Side. It was a doorman building. I took the elevator to ninth floor.  Don opened the door. He was 5.6 feet tall, very skinny, very pale.   I introduced myself. We walked through a narrow hallway to get to the living room. His apartment was full of clutter. There were a big piano, hundreds books and music cds. I realized a cat was walking around. I’m not a cat person. Cats irritate me. I didn’t say anything. I asked little cat’s name. I told him I liked cats (a white lie).

We started chatting. He told me about himself. He was a musician. He loved classic music, reading books. That explained all that clutter. He talked about his late partner. His name was Doug. He mentioned their trips to country. They both had loved to drive and see different places. We talked almost two hours.  

After that night I regularly saw Don over two years. Mostly Saturdays we went to brunch together. He had great stories from his past. Only one thing puzzled me the most that he was never out to his family, but I understood his reasons. Every brunch we went to same restaurant. It was our special place.  He had neuropathy on his feet. Sometimes it was too painful to walk for him. I did his grocery shopping, picked up his medications from pharmacy.

During the week I always called him couple of times. One day he was cheery, the other day  he was very dark and blue. Once he told me on the phone “I’m ready Z! So ready! I want to join Doug in heaven. I missed him terribly. I’m miserable. I can’t go on like that” A strong hand squeezed my heart suddenly. I felt the pain he had been having. 

After six months meeting with Don, I had to go to Turkey for two weeks to handle my visa. He was nervous.

 “Don’t you dare not coming back! I need my buddy here” I promised him to come back.

As soon as I came back to NYC, I called him. He was in so much pain again. I told him I brought a little gift for him. He got very excited. We met at our place on Saturday. I gave him my present.

“What is this?                                                                                                              

“It is evil eye keychain.”                                                                                     

“What is evil eye?”  

“We believe in my country that evil eye gives people good luck” 

"Excellent! I need a lot of luck"

 -One week before Labor Day 2005-- 

I was going to go Turkey again. Don and I were having brunch. 

He said “You know! That lucky keychain got broken. Can you bring me another one?  I don’t want to have bad luck.Please!!”                                                   

 "Of course I will !” 

At my trip I picked a keychain I thought it was the best one.  I put it a safe place in my luggage. As I arrived to NYC, I called Don. Bizarrely I got a fax signal instead of phone ring. He didn’t have a computer. He used his fax to communicate with his friends. I thought he must have forgotten it plugged in. I was exausted from my 10 hours flight. I went to bed. Following two days I called him multiple times. Always I got fax signal. I was so busy with work, life. I didn’t have time to go to his place. I didn’t even have time to open up my luggage. I decided to fax him. I wrote on a paper “Hey Don! I’m back. I can’t reach you! Call me!” I also wrote my phone number just in case.

After two hours I got a call. I looked at my cell phone. It was Don. I felt so revealed. I picked up the phone.

 “Hi Don! Where have you been?”

“I’m Frank! Don’s friend. Unfortunately, Don passed away”

“What? NO?”

“Last week when he was alone at his apartment, he got a heart attack. After two days, doorman broke the door. They found him”… 

My whole body got numb. I felt empty, drained. I cried, cried and cried. After couple of hours I remembered his present. I opened my luggage and found it. I harshly tore apart bubble wrap. Keychain was in two pieces. It got broken right at the center.  

“OH! I couldn’t bring this in time. Don ran out of luck.” 

I heard Don’s voice saying

 “I’m ready Z! So ready! I want to join Doug in heaven”

And he did……. 

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This essay is my tribute to my buddy Don. He is up there somewhere watching me! Thank you Don for all those good memories!