Dear Family and Friends,
Thank you for visiting my AIDS Marathon Page! Running a marathon, which is a 26.2 mile run, has been something that I have wanted to do for the past several years and I have been so excited to finally be able to dedicate the time and energy to make it happen. I will be running in the 2009 Los Angeles Marathon which will take place on May 25, 2009. I started training for the marathon in October 2008, running as much as I can during the week and also with a group on Sunday mornings. What makes doing this marathon particularly meaningful for me, is that I will be running to help raise money and awareness for the fight to end AIDS. More personally, I will be running in honor of my Uncle Oscar “Osky” Aqui, who passed away from AIDS in the early ‘90s, before reaching his 40th birthday.
I wanted to take this opportunity to tell you what my Uncle Osky means to me. I was young to be able to have very vivid memories from when my Uncle was still alive (on top of the fact that I generally do not have the best memory to begin with), but I remember his ability to make me laugh. I remember his kindness and his creativity. I remember his cats that he had throughout the years, one of them in particular, named “Duchess,” who had one green eye and one blue eye. As the youngest of all my cousins by several years, I remember feeling like my Uncle Osky made a particular effort to make me laugh and have a good time.
Maybe this was because Uncle Osky himself was the youngest of his siblings by many years. Like my father and their two sisters, Uncle Osky was born in the Philippines. But as the youngest sibling, by the time my grandparents and most of the family had immigrated to the United States, Uncle Osky was still a Junior High or High School aged kid, while my dad and Aunties were already adults.
My Uncle Osky was an artist. Although I am not very knowledgeable of painting, I believe a dominant style of his painting would be described as “abstract.” He had a few shows that I can remember at local art galleries in San Diego and we still have many of his works today in our home.
Sadly to say, the next significant memories I can remember was that my Uncle became sick. My Uncle’s sickness was AIDS. My Uncle was also gay. Although I did not know the extent of it, I know that my Uncle being gay was, at the very least, a source of tension between him and my grandparents and perhaps others. I also know that it was something that I was too young to be aware of. But what I was aware of, was that I sensed that those around me were careful to not let me know the full story as to why exactly Uncle was sick. At the time I think I simply did not know or understand.
As my Uncle had become weaker, I remember accompanying my mother to visit him. She brought with us her homemade cream puffs that he (and all of us) so adored. But as we visited with my Uncle, I saw that the person in front of us was such a changed image of him. He had lost a lot of weight and most of his hair. The quality of his skin had deteriorated and he felt discomfort. We visited with him for a while and after we had left, I watched my mom cry as she drove us home.
That’s the last visit I can remember having paid to Uncle Osky. After that, perhaps I had expressed a desire to go visit him and it was decided that I was too young to see his condition. I believe that at some point, he went back to living with my grandparents, then the hospital, and eventually a hospice.
Then, one morning, my mom came into my room, as she did every day, to wake me up to get ready for school. She told me that Uncle Osky had passed away during the night. She said that he had gone to a better place and she also told me that it was ok for me to cry. So, that morning, I cried for the first experience I had of the loss you feel when someone is taken from your life.
Now, many years later, I come into my office at work, and when I look away from my computer I can see two paintings that my Uncle Osky did. I had them framed when I moved to Boston for law school and shipped them to California when I moved back. One hangs next to my college and law school diplomas and the other next to my Coming to America movie poster. Being able to walk into work every day and see these paintings is a bittersweet reminder for me. It reminds me of the beauty that my Uncle created and the talent that he had, but it also reminds me of the life that he had yet to live. With so much lying ahead of him, his life was cut too short, denying him of more experiences and denying those around him of his presence. And so, these paintings serve as a reminder to me, to live a full life for my Uncle and to pursue my dreams, something that he was not given the chance to fully see through. The paintings remind me to try be grateful for everyday I have on earth, to always strive to be a kind and good person, and to help those who are suffering in the world. They push me to achieve more and touch more people’s lives. Although my Uncle undoubtedly touched many lives in the time he had on earth, he could have touched even more lives, if he had only had the chance to live a longer one himself.
It pains me to think of the beauty that he could have continued to create had he only been given more time on earth. Especially now as an Uncle myself, it hurts to think of what a blessing it would have been to have been able to have him as an Uncle in my life as I grew older. So although I was perhaps too young to fully understand why I was crying when I found out my Uncle Osky died, I now understand it all too well. And while significant progress has been made in the fight against AIDS, there is still a tremendous amount of advancements that we are still waiting for.
More than one million Americans, and 40 million others around the world, are living with HIV, the virus that causes AIDS. With more than 20 million deaths so far, AIDS is now the leading cause of death among all people aged 15 to 59 worldwide.
Regrettably, Los Angeles has the second highest number of people living with AIDS in the United States. So the money I am raising will benefit AIDS Project Los Angeles. APLA provides food banks, transportation, home health care and other vital services to help keep people with HIV/AIDS alive until there’s a cure.
I will be very content to just know that you have read about this inspirational person in my life and to know that I am running this marathon in his honor. It will mean a lot to me just for you, as someone who has been a part of my life, to know this story and know how it has affected me. However, if you are also so inclined, you should feel free to contribute to this important cause by donating on my fundraising page. Follow this link if you would like to make a contribution:
http://www.aidsmarathon.com/participant.aspx?runner=LA-2100&EventCode=LA09 Any contribution you can make would make a difference. Contributions are tax-deductible and will help the lives of thousands of people living with HIV/AIDS.
Whether you can contribute or not, I truly hope that my story can shed some light on this cause and show you a part of who I am. Feel free to e-mail me at
andrewaqui@post.harvard.edu if you would like to share words of encouragement or if you would like to learn more about my Uncle and why I am doing this marathon. I will try to post on this site periodically to give you updates on my progress. I hope my story can help inspire you to also live a full life and to reach out to the people in suffering who are in need of our help.Thanks for your support.
Sincerely,
Andrew
Look who joined me running - its my dad! He looks tired already.
We even ran into my cousin Aldryn running at the lake!
