At the beginning of the AIDS epidemic, I had a cousin diagnosed with the disease. It came as shock to everyone. No one in the family knew he was gay, except HIS WIFE! Once his mother and a few others in the family found out, they tried to keep it a secret. It finally came to light once his health began to decline. I was about seven or eight years old and he had had the disease for a number of years. He attended church every Sunday, as did I, so I was use to seeing him. In fact, my cousin and I would sit with him once and a while. I was use to receiving a quick peck on the cheek from him before going home. One Mother’s Day, all the mothers in the family that did not attend church regularly, came to church. After service, the family bid each other farewell. My cousin with AIDS, nonchalantly walked up to his female relatives and kissed them on the cheek, the same he had done to me many times. He kissed my mother, my aunt, and another relative. After we said our goodbyes, we got into the relative’s car to go home. Once we were on our way and my sick cousin was out of sight, the three women begin to wipe the place where my cousin had kissed them. I looked up at them as they did this, and was confused. Why did they do it? I knew he had the terrible disease, but I had allowed him to kiss me without fear of contracting it. Even as a young child, I knew I had no risk of getting it. But I looked up at these three adults, one of which was my mother. I wondered, what were they thinking? Were they really afraid of contracting the disease from a kiss? A light peck on the cheek? I realize it was the early nineties, but I still remember that day, and how I felt so sad that they would do something like that. I was surprised to even see an action done by anyone in my family, who always spoke of family ties and how we always have to stick together. I felt so bad my cousin. Even though he had not witnessed the deed. I thought, what if other family members felt the same way? How could they treat a loved one so cold, even if it wasn’t to his face? He died shortly after, and of course, everyone showed up and everyone cried. But the whole time I wondered, are those tears sincere? Are those tears for relief that he was now gone, and so was the threat of AIDS? Was that what they would always remember my cousin for, that he lived and died with AIDS?
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I don't want to make any excuses for this behavior, but in the early 90's there was still not a lot known about the disease. It was not on the news all the time nor was how to contract the disease. It is sad that a child knew that there is no risk of contacting AIDS from a peck on the cheek and grown adults didn't.