One Year Later

Hi All,

Once again, it's been awhile. A year ago today Andy passed away, losing his fight to lung cancer. It feels like it was just yesterday and decades ago, all at the same time. A lot has changed in the past year and yet our family, our friends are still the same tight knit, loving group that we were a year ago.

Quite a few folks have checked in with me today, remembering Andy and invariably asking how I am. I am ok. Today was like any other day, get up, get ready, out the house, commute, work, home, chores and in a bit off to bed. Today we had a choice - to sit back and let the sadness of losing Andy dictate our day. Or to take it as any other day, maybe take a moment and have a beer in Andy's memory, think about the good times we had with him, the memories that he gave us. I took the second. And had a few beers with friends.

Time does heal the pain that I felt. It still catches me, Jen, Nicholas, Mom, Dad, Ann, and, I am sure, our friends every once in a while. When it catches up to me, it takes me by surprise, and I think about how I believe Andy would want us to keep on moving, keep living. It has helped and will always serve as the benchmark for what really matters, it trivializes those things in my life that before all this I would have let become big deals; now something which might have thrown me for a loop a few years ago is more manageable. When I am stuck, whether running hills or motivating through work, I think about Andy and how trivial my immediate issue is, and it makes it easier to keep moving.

His death, to me, will always be a big loss. I miss him, and always will. We have a baby coming in about four weeks, a son for Ann and I, and I know, I already tear up, not having him there to be a part of this new journey, this awesome gift to our family. I also know that some part of our son will be Andy, he and I being brothers I suspect that something will catch me and remind me of Andy as my brother, when we were younger and growing up. I hope he has Andy's wit, his creativity, his patience, his ability to drive off the tee...

I get these incredible thoughts randomly, a song, or a smell, or a conversation will trigger a memory of Andy, of the fight, of the end, of his life and friends. And then I file it away, or maybe tell a close family member about it, and let it go. As Nicholas grows, I hope that I can remember them to tell him about his dad.

Nicholas is an awesome little boy. Of course he misses Andy, and asks us about him, or just states that he misses Dad. We just celebrated his fifth birthday, and he is doing well. It does make me sad to think about him not having Andy there with him as he grows up; my Dad has stepped into his life as a strong, male, father figure and that, I know, makes Andy proud; we visit him, and Jen, and my parents as often as we can. He's gotten feisty, he likes wrangling with you, has an incredible amount of energy and like all little boys makes an incredible amount of noise; as much energy as he has and requires from my parents, I think he keeps them young. He's into legos, especially the Cars series of kits and love Star Wars - 35+ years after Andy and I were in that stage (although back then there were no Cars kits, we were into the Space and Castle kits) it makes me smile to see Nicholas enjoying the same things we did.

Today I awoke to the version of U2's "Bad/ 40/ Where the Streets Have no Name", recorded live in Boston Garden in 2001, and broadcast during the NBA All Star game half time that year. It's always had a special place for me and Andy - he was in LA, I was in Philly at the time, and I remember seeing it on TV, cutting live to Boston, to Where the Streets Have no Name, and talking to Andy about it. The song is about the end of apartheid, a dream of finding a place where your address doesn't dictate your station and opportunities in life, but for me it reminds me of Andy, and my thoughts about him being in South Africa with Jen and her family. When I hear it now it makes me hope that he is in a place where there is no pain and he is free.

Finally, thank you to Julia for bringing this video to my attention, it's really powerful in the images it provokes, and for me, the memories of last year: http://vimeo.com/34046413. The words at the introduction are particularly poignant, especially as I consider the life that Andy ran. The end of the short talks about who you ran your life with and who was with you at the end of the finish line. I am especially grateful to all of you who were with me last year, who sponsored me in the Swim Across America Boston Harbor Islands Swim, and Team Andy in the Marine Corps Marathon. All told, we had over 140 folks sponsor the 7 of us in Team Andy, to the tune of $10,736 total; in the SAA BHIS, 69 people sponsored me for a total of $6,005. That's incredible, and I believe that good will come of, through support for Lung Cancer patients and their families, advocacy for more government funded LC research, and the treatment of cancer survivors.

I will be participating in these events again this year, and would love to have any of you who are interested join me - there are different avenues to these things as well, maybe you're not interested in swimming in Boston Harbor, or run/walking a marathon, so if that's the case and you want to do something, please reach out to me, as I am sure that we can find some alternatives. Every bit helps in the fight against cancer.

I hope you can all remember Andy today, something good and pure, and that it makes you smile. I miss you brother.

Tim