Positive Life NSW

The following stories are from the last writing workshop PLWHA (NSW)
ran with Karumah in Newcastle… you’ll notice HIV itself doesn’t get a
mention in these.

The last appointment
Exhausted from a demanding day, waiting in anticipation, anxious. Waves pound the beach with such force, gulls shriek and the sun was setting outside the window. Tying up the office, my mind was on the arrival of my last appointment. He sounded just incredible.

Craven A cigarettes, my favourites, had ingrained themselves into the fibers of my clothes. My breath stank. Was it the slow decay of the molar? I must make that appointment. A car door slams. Is it him? No. A woman races up the cement path towards the busy highway.

I looked around. Everything prepared. Coffee, water… The roar of a motor bike he straddled. Dressed in black leather, a dark helmet, five foot eight. He walked towards the entrance.

The end of a long day together
So I sat down at the end of another long day, ready to sip a nice hot cup of tea. It was a cold night and all I wanted was to sit and enjoy a little television before bed. She was not long home from playing over the road with a group of new found friends. I heard her coming in and sensed disruption, and had just remembered her school skirt needed to be sewn up. She had pinned it already and asked me if I would do it now. I begrudgingly agreed because I knew it was important to her and that she’d tried to do it. She got the pink sewing box, brought it to me, got the needle and cotton, grabbed the skirt and sat down beside me on the brown two-seater lounge. After five minutes she looked at me and said:

“Thanks for doing that mum. I love watching you do things. Now next time I’ll try to do it, but it won’t be like yours. I love you.”

I sewed up the skirt happily while she leaned up against my left arm. She learnt to sew while I learnt to appreciate her that little bit more… again.

Understanding
Of course Mandy the kelpie was trotting along happily. She was proud to be out walking such a quality human. The world was always a better place within his proximity. It was like a tonic. Where would our conversation flow and what gems of wisdom would I carry away with me today? Something to expand an understanding into what the word is on the street. Not the street that was supposed to hip or cool, but one that was all it’s own. Not a street buzzing with excitement and poncing and parading, but a smooth and relaxing avenue of the chilled.

Remembering you
I remember the days we left in our past. I want to know why we parted company, and sometimes wish that it had never occurred. I remember the dreams I had of you but never discussed openly – Why was that? I wonder. I wonder if you had dreams for us as well. Did you wish us a long future? Did you see us traveling to distant, faraway lands and sucking the marrow out of life, engaging in other cultures and languages?

I remember the velvet smoothness of your coffee coloured skin. The way we kissed as friends, and made love as equals and brothers with great respect and compassion. The years diminish your image and the burden of you within my senses, but I hope time will never steal the beauty of that affair or ever taint my regard for you. I remember your laughter.

PLWHA NSW runs a number of writing workshops a year. Check our calendar for details on coming workshops.