Thursday, October 15, 2015

Grab a Snickers (and perhaps some Kleenex).


This one will be short and sweet, both for my own sake, as well as yours. For today, I have one purpose and one purpose only- the discussion of life and death. And, as unfortunate as that purpose is, it is one that is a part of all of our lives whether we want it to be or not.

As a wonderfully wise person said so many times, you might want to grab a Snickers (and perhaps a Kleenex). For the last eight years, since my first year as a member of the University of Minnesota Marching Band (UMMB), I have been humbled to watch, albeit solely as a fly on the wall, as my band director and his family found out that his wife had metastatic breast cancer, and went on to battle the ever evolving roller coaster that goes along with it. Although nobody wants to receive this news, their approach was so positive. They started a Caring Bridge site, and from the very beginning, both expressed the utmost optimism and faith in the process, using movie quotes as “Never tell me the odds,” and “Go to the mattresses” to describe an experience too real for so many people. Over the course of my four years as a part of the UMMB, as well as the years since graduation, I have followed the updates on her Caring Bridge site, watching not only her, but also her husband and other family members cope with the ups and downs that are chemotherapy, clinical trials, radiation, remission, and recurrence- multiple times. Throughout those eight years, it was amazing not only to watch their family cope, but also how the idea of “family” extended so far beyond those related by blood. As a group of over 300 people, the band sent cards, took pictures, raised money, and a few years after I left, made a quilt. Additionally, friends, neighbors, and community members cooked meals, cleaned their home, and took care of their three boys when she just needed a break. Now, I’m not trying to get on my soap box to turn this into a plug for the UMMB or to talk about me, but to describe my appreciation and utmost respect for an organization and family that always goes above and beyond what is expected, both in the capacity that is “defined,” and more importantly, that which is undefined and completely outside the scope of their responsibility. The power and true support that comes from a group of people who have such a genuine interest in helping others in whatever capacity they can, is truly amazing.

Although I only met her once, it was so incredibly easy to see how caring, vivacious, selfless, brave, and 100% real Toni Diem was. She is somebody whom so many of us should aspire to be, and will be missed by a lot of people. As I said earlier, I am extremely humbled to have been even a small part in such an enormous chunk of this family’s life. The things I learned simply from observing expand beyond the boundaries of anything I could have learned in a classroom or from a teacher. I will take all of it with me in hopes of applying it to the many sensitive, tender, and raw situations I expect to encounter in the coming years of my career.

With that, I leave you with a few more words from that wise man I mentioned earlier, “Call home, because you just never know.” I love all of you, whether acquaintance, friend, or family, more than you’ll ever know.

I’ve included the link to her Caring Bridge here, on the off chance that any of you are interested in reading both her story, as well as the perspective of a person who loved her in a way that is seen only on the most rare occasions.

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