a stitch in the blanket

The Man Who Had HIV and Now Does Not

In 1995 I was eating chicken flavored Top Ramen in my dorm room at UCSC. My brother John called me from Half Moon Bay and I was surprised to hear his voice. Not very far into the conversation John told me Steve Harvey had died. Steve was a friend of the family. He was one of the Harvey boys that my father worked with in the car business. As kids we grew up around Steve, his younger brother Richard (who died in a car accident), and his older brothers Bill and Mike. Bill and Steve were closer to my dad than Mike and Richard and would often come over for dinner. Steve was a giant. Or at least that's what I remembered about him. He had red curly hair and an awesome mustache which rivaled the greats of the 80's. Steve would always play any sport with us. Often he'd take us to Smith Field and we'd play baseball for hours.

Some years prior to his death my parents sat us down on the couch and told us Steve had AIDS. I was the oldest and I really didn't know what to think. I remember it was some later that Steve would visit us. I remember thinking to myself when he was coming over "Should I touch him?" There still wasn't a lot of information about the disease.

I hugged him. When he came over and I saw him, I hugged him. He was smaller. You could tell he was sick. It was the last time I would see him. He spent his remaining years away from us. He may have gone to Chicago. Unfortunately my parents didn't tell us much.

Above is an article I found interesting. I learned something today. It's not a cure, it certainly isn't the answer. I just thought it was interesting. I miss Steve.

jux because

My wife began her contractions on April 7th, that afternoon Denny Tovey died. At around nine that evening I was lying in bed with Brooke and said to her that it was time for me to focus on our new son. The following day at 3:54pm George Christopher was born. These two events; the death of a friend, the father of my best friend and the birth of my son will always be a great reminder of mortality. I wondered Thursday evening as I settled in bed whether Denny and George passed each other in some eternal hallway. I'd like to think their conversation wasn't long, just a "hello" and a mutual "good luck". I'd like to think that both were a little too preoccupied with what was about to happen. Denny had an orientation mixer to get to and George eagerly wanted to try his new body. More than anything I like to think as they were passing Denny gave George a wink as if he knew what George was in for, that Denny had a lifetime of experiences, of knowledge, of love. I like to think that Denny knew about all the moments George would come upon, learning to ride a bike, drive a car, put up with complete morons. That he knew that George would feel love and feel hurt, that he would have lots of doubts and fears. I like to think that as Denny was passing giving that confident wink George without missing a beat would look right back into Denny's eyes and give him a mischievous wink back.

Craig Tovey and Everything Else

Craig Tovey is my best friend. Has been since the summer of 1992. I broke my arm that summer and he came over everyday to play Street Fighter II. He taught me about the Church. More specifically he asked me where I thought I would go when I die.

Not a single person up until that point had every asked me that question. Not my mother, not my father, not a teacher or scout leader. No one had asked me what happens after this life. My answer was something along the lines of "I think I will live a good life and I'll be in Heaven with God." After my reply he just agreed with me.

To this day I have been astonished at the manner in which he treated that situation. We were two teenagers discussing a weighty topic and he had the insight to recognize my level of understanding with regards to eternity. Since that time, I've joined the LDS faith. I've spent countless hours learning about my religion and formulating my own understanding of what happens to me when I die. Still that first encounter with Craig resonates with me. It is still one of the pillars of my spiritual being.

Tonight Craig and talked about his father. It's a coincidence but one worth noting that I haven't posted a blog since I wrote about Denny Tovey. Craig and his family are now living with the reality that medical efforts have not aided in the fight against cancer. I've written and deleted text after text trying to find the words to express my empathy for Craig. He's my best friend. He loves his dad. I cannot imagine his life right now. I don't know why I'm even writing this right now. It's not cathartic, it doesn't help my friend.

I mentioned to Craig that my sister's mother-in-law died this last month. To be more specific my friend Joel's mother died this past month. I love Joel and Cathy so much. I love their son, my nephew Gabriel. I struggle to do what I can to comfort them. I've spoken to Joel more than Cathy. I struggle with what to say. The last thing I said to Joel was that I believe that his mom is in Heaven. I believe that.

A few hours after talking to Craig I was lying on the couch with Olive. I stroked her face and cuddled with her. I love my family so much. I love my girls, I love my wife so very much.

There are moments in my life that I will carry with me forever. There are people that I will always cherish. Craig happens to be a part of both of those facts. I don't know how to conclude this post.

Denny Tovey needs our help

This is Denny Tovey, I know. Awesome.

I am calling on friends, family, and anyone else to help him right now. Denny was diagnosed with Acute Lymphoblastic Leukemia. Denny also happens to be my best friends dad. Please read Craig's blog: To Lesser Human Beings.

I am asking for a financial donation from all of my friends in the amount of $25. Denny needs help. My wife and I will be making a contribution and I would like to include your support. Please either send a check directly to Denny at:

Denny Tovey
6433 Beechwood Dr
Paradise, CA 95969

or to my family

Brooke and Chris Barragan
2321 Palisades Dr #103
Lake Havasu City, AZ

"What do we live for if not to make less difficult for each other?" -George Elliot

Bear

Every boy should have a dog. I was so very fortunate to have Bear. Yesterday I received a phone call from Santa Cruz letting me know that my dog was very sick and being put to sleep.

When I first met Bear he was well over 120lbs. We were walking through the animal shelter in Scotts Valley looking for a little dog to adopt. As we went to take out a dog named "Shaye" we were told jokingly that we would have to take "Bear" out. We agreed jokingly and first took Shaye out. She was a small dog with no interest in us. Shaye was the kind of dog that would run the first chance an open door presented itself. Deciding to keep our promise we met Bear.

There in his kennel was Bear laying on his back, his mouth barely in reach of his food bowl. It was the laziest sight I had ever seen. I loved it. We took him outside. On the way out Bear looked to a table where the handlers kept dog treats. I remember loving that he knew that. When we got outside he stayed so close me. He was a great dog.

The file said he was a lab/pitbull mix. His size most likely scared off many potential owners. He was a rescue twice over and when he was found he had the remains of some small animal in his stomach. We were told he was chained outside with two other dogs that were too violent to be kept alive. I always thought that Bear had it in his mind that if he made it out that situation he would be the best friend a boy could ever have.

The day he came home I took him down to the beach on West Cliff. We walked down the stairs together. He didn't tug at his leash he just walked along side me. When we got to the sand I walked over to a log and sat down. I took him of his leash. He walked away from me a few steps and then came back over to my side. He sat down right next to me. I remember looking in his eyes. He could have been a very intimidating dog if he wanted to but his eyes just reassured me that he would always be my friend.

I'd walk with him every chance I could get. I took him to the beach as often as I could. He loved getting in the car with me. When softball season was in full swing he'd come with me to the games and sit in the dugout. He'd get so sad when I went to take the field.

He loved the bed. He'd do anything to sleep in it. He'd pretend to sleep to avoid being kicked out. More times than not I'd fall for it and let him cuddle. A hundred pounds of fur and hot breath.

When we moved to Arizona he endured the hot summers with a smile. During our time there we got a new puppy Noe. I remember the first days Noe was home, Bear was not happy with it. He didn't act out, he didn't bite or even growl, he just did his best to deal with this new dog until she would be on her way.

Noe didn't go away and Bear began to warm up to her. She had this thing about nipping at his cheek when he would come back in the house. He didn't mind, he'd allow it. They became a family, they became "Bear and Noe". I can still see them sharing a large crate together. That was where they slept. Noe nestled up next her big Bear. Noe loved her Bear.

In 2007 I left Santa Cruz. Unfortunately I wasn't able to take Bear. Noe wouldn't have it. My heart was so broken. I missed my friend so much.

In the spring of 2008 I asked if I could take the two for the day. I picked them up in the morning planning to go to Half Moon Bay. I cried when I got them into the car. As silly as it was I cried.

We went to Smith field just south of Half Moon Bay. There is a large area where they loved to run and play. Noe got out and immediately took off. She ran in and out of the chaparral, chasing birds and jumping over ditches. I watched as she stretched those legs out running as fast as she could.

My favorite part of it was Bear. There he was just right by my side. As we walked for well over an hour he never left my side.

Yesterday I got the call at 11am. Bear was sick and the doctor said it was his time.

I asked that he get a hug from me. That he be told that I love him. Silly probably but he's my dog. I cried. I'm crying now over it. He was the dog a boy should have. He was my dog. I just wished I could have been there. I wish I could have hugged him one more time.

Last night when as I slept I had a dream. I was on that deck in Santa Cruz. That old weather torn deck I'd been on a thousand times. Bear was brought out to me. There he was with his green collar and that old green leash. I grabbed his great big neck and hugged him one last time. I said thank you. I said goodbye. He was so happy. I loved that I got to say goodbye.