From Mark, Tyler’s Dad
Hey, Baby Tyler! It’s around about now we should hone your ball throwing technique. We should get your legs sturdy so you can chase your sister around the house. Your Mom and Dad would like to take you on trains and planes so you can watch the world whiz by. Tyler, I was looking forward to taking you to play-school and watching you make friends (and even enemies). I was looking forward to buying you presents and visiting new places to play and ingest the world around us. I was waiting to take you to a rugby game (or a soccer game if you preferred), to Africa to see the animals in the wild and to introduce you one by one to your adoring relatives around the globe. I was looking forward to learning some more songs together and finding where our tastes in music converge. I wanted to watch Natalie play with you, encourage you to do naughty things, inspire you and be inspired by you. I was looking forward to intermediating the inevitable sibling disputes that would occur as you established your territory in this household and beyond. How proud I would have been to see you graduate and chalk up a slew of accomplishments in the fields in which you participated. I wanted to share a beer with you, play golf around the world and discuss at length that most thorny of topics: women! Most of all Tyler, I wanted you to be proud of your Dad. I have so much I want to tell you and teach you.
In fact Tyler, I find it is YOU that has taught me stuff. I am humbled by the impact you have had this past two years. First you revealed the importance of our friends: People who showed their concern in all kinds of ways. From hospital visits to put you to sleep to just listening to our constant attempts to make sense of the situation. A continuing diatribe on white blood cell counts, prednisone, neutrophyls, lymphocytes, plasma, platelets; tacrolimus, minimum residual disease, perfusion, coagulation, relapse, bone marrow transplants, cord blood, remission, catheters etc. etc.
And you showed me that our geographically dispersed family could offer great comfort in their very different ways. This ranged from Grandma’s touching ‘take me, save him’ plea to Don’s heroic all-nighters at the hospital and effortless entertainment of the nurses.
You taught me another dimension of perseverance and determination. However many drugs you were given, even when dehydrated, and food deprived, even when cooped up in the ‘clean room’, you were grateful for what you had and this translated into the mercurial smiles that we cherish now.
You taught me a new perspective on Japan. The diligence and care with which your doctors and nurses approached the issues at hand was inspiring to say the least. I cannot imagine a better standard of care anywhere.
You taught me to be grateful for your big sister. And then there’s your Mom!!! Wow! When I first met her 1993, I wrote a letter saying she was uniquely talented, attractive, sexy, desirable and great fun to be around. I had no idea that she could rise to the challenges presented to her these past two years. And maintain a positive outlook. And find time for Natalie and I. And hold our family together.
At this point, I find myself wondering whether I’d rather have you tearing around the house now while being oblivious to all these important lessons. I suspect I would… but that would be to ignore another principal lesson you taught us. Life goes on. We need to pick up and move on without resentment and self-pity – just like you did so, so many times.
I will try to take these lessons and apply them in my life. Thank you Tyler. I love you Tyler.