Of course he died in June

His soul soars free

I found out Saturday night that my friend Henry is gone. He actually passed away at 7:45 PM on Friday, June 22. We knew the end was near for a while now. I am just grateful that he died during Pride Month, because Henry defined himself as a proud gay man, and looking back on his loving life, I can see how his homosexuality colored his life.

He grew up in Puerto Rico and went to Catholic grammar and high schools. He always knew he was "different," never romantically drawn to women, never had any interest in sports.*

This outsider status drove him to find ways to express himself. He was fluent in Spanish and English and could read/translate Italian and French. At one time he was a wizard at computer graphics -- that's what brought him to the advertising agency where we both worked -- and later he won local Key West awards for his poetry and fiction.

It also imbued him with sympathy, empathy and compassion. There wasn't a stray dog, cat or person who didn't touch his heart. When they left Chicago for Key West, they took two cars -- one for their belongings and the other for the two dogs and two cats they'd adopted. 

Not long after they arrived in Key West, Henry and Reg added a third dog to the menagerie. A small black mop with short legs. He was the dog of a young man, a fellow busboy Henry had befriended while working at a hotel restaurant. The busboy died of AIDS. His parents, in Miami, had disowned him "for his lifestyle" and refused to come down to Key West for the dog. It's important to note that these parents requested their son's "property of value" be shipped to them. But they would not travel the 160 miles to tend to their son's remains or get his dog. My Henry handled that for these fabulous "Christian" parents.

About a decade later, Henry was teaching at the college. One of his students took a job in Miami and promised to come back for his cat. I think you can guess what happened. Renamed Annie Wilkes after the Kathy Bates character in Misery, this ornery old girlcat lived out her life with Henry and Reg, where the windowsill was her favorite spot. Yes, she was moody and mean when they took her in, but that's because she was in pain. Her teeth were literally rotting in her head. They restored her health and gave her comfort and peace. At this time, Henry and Reg were working four jobs between them, and they chose to spend their money the cat under their roof who was in discomfort.

And the Lilly Pulitzer dresses! During the summer between second and third grade, my niece had a growth spurt. When she returned to school, she was a head taller than her tallest classmate. She felt like a giantess. She compensated by insisting on wearing only dresses -- the frillier the better -- never slacks because dresses were what she needed to feel pretty. The battles between my little niece and her mother were fucking epic. I shared this Henry. He promptly got on his bike and rode across the island to the Lilly Pulitzer outlet store. He reasoned -- correctly, of course -- that none of her Chicagoland classmates would be wearing resortwear for back-to-school. She felt beautiful and proud in her lilac and pink floral dresses from faraway Key West. My niece is now married and over 30, and can still describe those dresses in detail. 

I could go on ... and on ... and on about the kindnesses Henry showed me and others. His heart was open to anyone who was sensitive, alone, or in distress.

Thank God he found MCC. He always loved and accepted Christ but felt that the Catholic Church had rejected him. With MCC, he finally had a spiritual home, where he was welcome to both love his husband and worship. I attended Christmas Eve services there with him and being part of that congregation filled him with such joy. He and I were so different in that way. I consider my faith private. When I go to church, I want to contemplate my personal relationship with God. I don't care if I don't speak to another soul. Not Henry. He thrived on the fellowship and hymns. He loved translating the week's lesson to Spanish for those in the congregation who were ESL.

Saturday night, when I heard of his passing, one of the first things I did was set the alarm clock. Even though it's unseasonably hot, even though I could stream the service and worship while still in my pajamas, I knew -- just knew -- how Henry would want me to celebrate his life. I got up early, put on makeup and jewelry, and hauled my fat ass to church. I sat alone in the pew and cried a little. 

I was sorry for the suffering he'd endured at the end, and grateful that he is finally at peace.

I was grateful that God sent him to me. Henry used to say I was his "true sister," and I loved him like a brother. I will miss him forever.

*Oh, but he was handy around the house. Going to The Home Depot with Henry was an education. Furniture, glass, plumbing ... before his accident, he was adept at it all. And so I leave with you Henry's travel hack: Before setting out on a road trip, check in advance for the Home Depot locations along the way. They are uniformly open until 9:00 or 10:00 PM, sell things you always need (like cleansing wipes and bottled water) and have the cleanest, safest bathrooms. You're welcome.

Photo by Mateus Campos Felipe on Unsplash