I’m writing this in the dark of 6 AM, contemplating the Winter Solstice to come on the weekend. I’ve always loved its long night lit with candles and then in the weeks that follow, the gentle and glorious return of longer afternoons. Even on the coldest days when I lived in Montreal, I liked to be outside to see the stretch of the red afternoon skies get longer and later. I worked in a bakery, and a co-worker and I would step from the steamy inside to stand in our long aprons on the snowy sidewalk and watch the sky change colour.

Those were the days when I was going to ACT UP meetings, and one World AIDS Day marched the streets with a mask on my face to symbolize the women that were dying too, in a time when people weren’t seeing women affected by this disease in Canada. Even now, women are understandably reluctant to name their status, lest they have to face discrimination because of it. 

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I’ve never had a head for space (although I can be spacey at times). I have a hard time imagining just how big the earth is, and how many people live here. If I threw a party and even a million of the earth’s 6.7 billion came, how many bags of chips would I need? How many bags of ice?  It’s amazing to think about all those people, all over the world, breathing, as natural as, well, sex. A big percentage of that 6.7 billion people has sex. Why is it then that sex can be such a problematic topic?

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December sky, December snow? This morning it looks possible. It’s a time of year that a hot meal fits into nicely. If you come down to the drop-in on a Tuesday, you’ll find just that. Members come for the food and more. Because really, having lunch with a bunch of people who know what it’s like to live with HIV can be a relief. You can eat, share info and insight, and even laugh. 

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