David was like the uncle in the Nutcracker. When he came to visit, there was glitter in the air. He brought laughter, jokes, and funny gifts. He hugged the kids, did the requisite uncle-type teasing, told a million knock-knock jokes, and had them begging for more. He delighted in the surprising and made all things special. If he brought a cake, it would be something outrageous like "double trouble by chocolate". If he brought a present, it was always just right. When David arrived, any day became a holiday - with a mythic big band playing. Yet, beneath the wild extravagance, there was an artistic, sensitive, sometimes insecure, and unfailingly kind, man. In quiet moments, he would listen intently and offer wise counsel. He was the kids' magical uncle, my husband's big brother, my best friend, and the leavening in my husband's otherwise overly serious family.

David died of AIDS in 1988.

Loss is an inevitable part of life. Our family, like everyone else's, has had to learn to deal with illness and death as great-grandparents, grandparents, and parents have passed away. But in those cases, death was in the natural order of things. Although it is certainly sad to lose a beloved grandparent, or even a less than easy to love parent, mourning lives that end in their late 70's, or 80's, or, 90's is not the same as mourning someone in youth or midlife. Our elders died knowing that they had had life's full opportunity. David (and, indeed, many of his friends) died when they were still in the process of becoming who they could be.

David's death left a hole that time doesn't close for us, for the man who loved him, or for the many people whose lives he made immeasurably more interesting. We've all healed. We've all moved on. But losing someone to such a cruel illness is not something one forgets. It is 12 years later and writing about this still takes my breath away. But it is also true that it was through David's death that my family learned some fundamental lessons about coping with loss.

First, we've learned that David continues to be part of our family. We tell David-stories that make us laugh until we weep. We tell the children when they are being like him. We remember him when we cook one of his recipes or when we use an item he gave us. When we have a family problem, we wonder aloud what David would do. We know that when we stop talking about people we have lost, they die in a new, even more permanent way.

We have also learned that relationships don't stop developing just because death intrudes. David was 10 years older than my husband and me. As we get older, we understand in new ways some of the things that David once said to us. As we gain more complexity in our own understanding of life, we appreciate just how considerate of our youth and inexperience he was.

We show our children that action is one way to relieve pain. We help at AIDS-related fund drives and work to raise awareness about the disease. David has a panel on the AIDS Quilt, created by family and friends. We are committed to sharing about his death as part of the larger effort to not let AIDS become "yesterday's news" in the U.S. Our children see us transform our grief and anger into support for research and help for those who are sick.

Finally, we (and our children) never say goodbye to each other without an "I love you." Our family is acutely aware that one can never know if we are seeing someone for the last time. No, it's not a morbid obsession. We just know with certainty that time with people we love is precious and unpredictable. David's death taught us to value each other.

Coping is a verb, an activity. It is through all of these things that we not only bear loss but also transform it. Although we would never have asked for such a hard lesson in managing death, we have learned to value the many ways it has deepened us.

Dr. Marie advises:

To help your children cope with the loss of a beloved relative ...

• Tell lots of stories to keep the person in the family.

• Help them understand that relationships continue even after the person is gone.

• Show them how to transform their grief by reaching out to others.

• Value people you love in life as well as in death.