Remembering Stuart Weiner

Twenty-seven years ago today, at approximately 5 pm, my friend Stuart Weiner died in a room at San Francisco General Hospital. Twenty-seven years ago, 10 February 1983 was a Thursday. The previous Saturday, 5 February, Stuart had gone with a friend into San Francisco for dinner to celebrate his 30th birthday that had occured several days earlier. The typical Bay Area winter rain obscured Stuart & his friend as they crossed Van Ness Avenue; the driver who hit them and sped away, however, must have known he hit at least one person. Stuart's friend, whose name I never knew, was not badly hurt. Stuart, however, sustained a severe contra-coup brain injury. When the trauma unit nurse showed me his EEG, I knew right away. Stuart had no brain activity; the flat line on the EEG indicated that he was, in fact, brain dead. A ventilator and other trauma unit machines to which he was connected were keeping his heart going, his lungs inflating & deflating.

That gave his parents the time they needed. Time for the news to sink in & take root that their son's brain injury was fatal; that he could not recover; that they would need to make what I believe was the most difficult decision of their lives -- to disconnect Stuart from the machines that were keeping his heart beating & his lungs breathing & to let him go, let him die, to say goodbye to their son.

Stuart had been an only child, adopted by his parents when they were older. He was raised Jewish, but he was a spiritual searcher; his searches led him first to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints -- the Mormons -- and then to the Roman Catholic Church. At the time of his death, he was preparing for baptism, confirmation, and first Eucharist as a Catholic. He was intellectually and artistically gifted, had a wide range of interests, hoped to finish his Divinity degree & then attend graduate school in clinical psychology. Stuart was very openly gay, frequently in & out of love, and so good-looking that he intimidated one of my closest friends, another gay man.

Because of our shared backgrounds in Judaism, Stuart & I shared a special connection, a special bond. We could say things to each other that no one else could understand, & we couldn't explain. That we were both "out," Stuart as a gay man and I as a lesbian woman, further connected us, as did the fact that I had converted a number of years earlier from Judaism to Catholicism. I was the sister he never had, and he was the brother I never had.

His death at age 30 still causes me tremendous pain; I still miss him. I believe & trust that he is among the Communion of Saints, and that helps to ease my grief somewhat. Still, I miss him. And I miss the friends who loved him, although, thanks to cyber-space, some of us are now in contact once again. I'm not able to draw any "lessons" from this anniversary, at least, not at the moment. I am, however, deeply grateful that the Holy One has given me the capacity to love as deeply as I do, and deeply grateful as well that, for a few short years, I was close friends with a wonderful, loving, caring man. May the Holy One hold Stuart's soul close; may the Holy One comfort all who grieve.