REMEMBERING TIMOTHY SCOTT
Twice in my life I have been faced with a devastating loss.
On February 24, 1988, 27 years ago today, Timothy Scott died when he and I were both 32. We were not “officially” married, as it was not possible at that time, but he was my first spouse for all intents and purposes. It did not matter to me what other people thought of our relationship — the commitment to each other was the only important thing. And I was committed, for better or worse.
I met him while he was performing with my sister in CATS. He was a wonderful actor and a brilliant dancer, but most of all he was a kind, good man. We were together for five years and we had great happiness together.
When he passed away I was heartbroken and lost; as deeply sad then as I have been for these last few months since losing Davyd. Then, as now, I was aware that I would never be over it. But then the question arises -- what would I want to "be over?"
It is the love that endures. I learned from Tim that love is not something measured in quantity. It’s instead a state of being. I believe there is a place where it is no longer about being ‘in love,’ but simply feeling the presence of love. You’re either there or you’re not. And in Tim Scott I knew love.
And when I met Davyd many years later it was a recognition of the same love, and the same love just continued to grow and expand. The loss of Tim helped me to be present in the relationship with Davyd in ways I might never have been otherwise. I never took Davyd for granted — not a single day — knowing as I did that some type of loss is always inevitable.
I have many friends who have known me through both relationships. Someone asked me recently, “How much loss can one person endure?” And there are many days when I feel sorry for myself that I have been deprived of the physical company of both of these extraordinary men and sad that I was only able to be with each for a very few years.
But I realize the ultimate reality is bigger than that. There is truly nothing but gain for me. I have been the most fortunate of men: I gained so much from each of them in their incarnations on this plane. And when I think of either of them it all merges into the same unfolding, all-encompassing love. In the presence of these two men I have come to understand what love is. And that love has given my life meaning.
And so here now, 27 years later, I remember Tim with such deep gratitude and appreciation.
“Death is our friend precisely because it brings us into absolute and passionate presence with all that is here, that is natural, that is love… Life always says Yes and No simultaneously. Death (I implore you to believe) is the true Yea-sayer. It stands before eternity and says only: Yes.”