Their Deaths Didn’t Have To Happen: My Story With HIV/AIDS
It was 2006, and I was in my room watching TV when I heard yelling in the kitchen. I ran downstairs to find my mother on the floor crunched in a fetal position, with the phone to her ear. “Mommy, Mommy, are you ok?” I yelled. Her crackled voice simply uttered, “He is dead!”
The words of that day still echo in me today. “Why, why, why Peter?” were the words my mother repeated over and over. Wrapping her in my teenage arms, I couldn’t find the words to comfort the strong person I knew.
That day I lost an uncle, but my mother lost her best friend and beloved brother…