We are the diabetes community. We are. We are not short for words. When we have an opinion, we speak. Today, I am asking you to have an opinion. In fact today I am asking you to scream. I am asking you to rally around one family.
Why this family? We all have problems; we all have to deal with what life throws at us; why this family? The answer is this: sometimes no matter what we go through, when you see someone going through absolute hell, you can step up to the plate in some way. A way that will help no matter how small. A way to show you care.
This is what Meri Schuhmacher wrote on her blog today. Meri has 4 boys (ages 16-14-10-8) and 3 of them—3 OF THEM–have type one diabetes. Her husband, a young man, passed away last weekend. Six months ago he was strong, vibrant and active; he was diagnosed with brain cancer; and his battle was lost last weekend.
Here is what Meri wrote today on her blog:
I wasn’t expecting it.
Looking back it should have been more clear to me what was happening, but in the moment…I was just coping with him. Loving him.
How everything happened last Sunday is so personal I can’t write it down here, but I can tell you that without a doubt…we received our miracle.
I sit here completely humbled, and shocked. How God got away with this without me cursing him is the monumental miracle itself. Each detail of the last week was carefully seeded so that on the other side I could not deny this timeline was always set. It just wasn’t for me to foresee.
My body is barely hanging on. I am so weak, and tired, and aching. I ache everywhere. But my brain is working overtime…leaning on the muscle mass it has gained the last few months.
I wish I could turn it off. I wish I could flip a switch and give my body a break from feeling it all.
I wish I could know exactly what to do for the boys, and what to say. I hate guessing my way through something so important. They are my number one priority right now.
He fought the fight so valiantly. Last night as I was staring at the wall trying to convince my brain to sleep, I realized that not once did Ryan ever complain. He never questioned why this was happening to him. He was only always positive. Hope was the only option in this house…it was how he lived. Finding the joy in the little things was his legacy, and looking back I do not regret one minute of our journey.
I hope one day to be able to follow his lead and live with the assurance that all will be well. Today that seems impossible. Nothing is well. Saying I miss him is not even close to the pain that I feel. He was my everything. My favorite. The love of my life. My best friend. He got my sense of humor. He never judged me. For the past 20 years we did everything together…our hobby was each other.
Writing things out is my best therapy. Letting it out and knowing my feelings are there to look back on help me get through. I don’t know how long it will take me to navigate this road I’m on…maybe forever…but I will continue to come here and lay it all out.
It is my way.
I hope that it will help me get through this day. And then tomorrow I’ll figure out a way to get through that one too.
Thank you for raining down love and support to me and my beautiful boys. Thank you for your tears, and for being my friend.
I don’t know that I can do this. I’m completely scared out of my mind. But I know that Ryan knows I can do this, and that gives me the hopeful inkling that maybe, just maybe…I will.
Imagine the size of Meri’s ‘blue candle’; imagine her heart, imagine her life.
Is it enough to only hurt for her or can we do something?
What Meri does not do on her blog is ask for help. It is why I copied what she wrote instead of just sending you to her site to read it. With everything that the God of this earth may find holy I’m asking you to do one of two things (or both if you are so inclined)…….today!
1. Go to it and donate.
2. Go on Facebook and share this link with everyone including your own words how important it is to make a difference for this one family. Have your kids go on Facebook and share with everyone and anyone asking to help.
Really? 3 kids with T1 and now no husband, father, and/or best friend to help get through every day. How bad do we actually have it that we cannot, on this day, help a family from our very own community?
All of our collective causes will all be there tomorrow, I promise. Today, to actually have the power to touch a life; is the power to change a world. Let’s do it together…….thank you. I’m a diabetesdad.