Updated 12/03

One sunny summer day my husband and I traveled to Washington D.C. to visit my son and to see the sights.  I had never been there before and was looking forward to a few days in our nation's capitol.  We had gone to the Museum of Science and Industry and was heading across the mall.  As we approached a rather large group of people mulling around, we found ourselves amidst a large quilt that had been laid end to end down the mall.  It reached almost as far as my eyes could see.  We started walking among the quilt strips and suddenly realized that the quilts were a memorial to those who had died of aids.  There were thousands.  Each was made either by a friend or a family member.  Some were covered with medals, some with jewels and beads, some simple and painted by hand.  Some made you weep.  Some provided a little respite from the sadness, while others provided pictures of the loved one who had crossed over. 

People were quietly milling around, walking the length and width of the quilt that was laid out on the grounds. Some were mourning death, while others were celebrating life...not just the life of those left behind by this world-wide tragedy, but celebrating the lives of those who were no longer with us. For their lives were worth celebrating.

The Aids Quilt represents many things. It is not just a remembrance of those gone. For those left behind, the memories will always be in their hearts and thoughts. But it is a call to action--action backed by dedication to the task of finding the cure. It is a way of letting us all know that these fine people were not just a statistic in some report. They were real live individuals who lived, breathed, ate, cried, suffered, laughed, & made contributions that have benefited all of us in one way or another.

These vibrant people were snatched away from careers, family, potential, and futures. We may never know how their passing changed the course of life, not just for themselves and their families, but for the world in general.

What if just one of these men, women or children, given more time, might have found a cure for one of our devastating diseases. What if your life would have been saved by one of these gifted people, who, if it had not been for this disease, would have been in the right place at the right time to save it. What if, because of the death of this particular person, your future was now uncertain. With him gone, would there be someone there to save your life when the time came?

I had happened upon the display by chance, yet, these sobering questions welled to the forefront as I walked the paths around the quilt. I did not know any of the people whose names and lives were emblazoned on these pieces of fabric and memories, yet, when I saw the vastness of the quilt, the many seemingly endless blocks that led to the steps of the Capitol building, I was overwhelmed by the sadness, the loss, the stark reality of it. Tears came to my eyes. I too mourned the faceless lives that no longer graced this planet.

I never got to "The Wall".  I never got to the Washington Monument.  The quilt display ended our day there.  It was interesting that I walked it with my son and husband, and all of us were moved by it despite the fact that I didn't know a soul represented on the quilt blocks. Yet, they mattered.   It touched a chord with me and it mattered.

I will never be quite the same again!

Christy Lee