Here’s the All-American family:
It’s my buddy Matt, his wife Danielle, and their kids Hannah and Donald.
Matt’s a great dude. We worked together for 14 years. Fellow Xavier alums. You won’t meet a more gregarious guy than Matt. He knows everyone, and is always quick to help folks connect. A true “glue guy” in the best sense.
He’s a giver too. When his wife Danielle was diagnosed with breast cancer a few years ago, he took it upon himself to spearhead our company’s involvement in the Ride Cincinnati event that raises funds for local cancer research, education, and care. Heck, he even rode a bike into one of our all-company meetings to drum up more riders and support.
A couple of years ago, he had nice things to say about our Ride ride (no, I didn’t stutter) and about me.
Right back at you, Matt!
Here’s the All-American family today:
Danielle fought the good fight. She was beating breast cancer. But then, a few months ago, the cancer had not only returned but had spread rapidly. She passed away last month. She was 49. So young. So unfair.
“Heartbreaking” doesn’t do it justice. To have been side by side with your life partner through the cancer battle (double mastectomy, chemo, radiation, dozens of doctors visits and tests…) and to hope and pray that maybe you were one of the lucky ones… only to have the cancer come back with a vengeance, and have your whole life upended in the blink of an eye.
And now Matt’s a single parent, raising two young kids. The math doesn’t work nearly as well – not just financially, but also from a practical standpoint. Soccer, baseball, theater, whatever… one person can’t be in two places at the same time. We take “watching the kids” for granted when we have a spouse. When that partner passes away, it creates an enormous void, across the board. Emotionally. Mentally. Physically. Practically. And yes, financially. Friends of Matt have set up a GoFundMe for the puzzle that will always have a piece missing.
“If you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back at you”
My dad faced that same void. Four kids under age 7, and a wife passing away from leukemia at the age of 33. So young. So unfair.
I don’t think my dad ever really recovered. How can you? But I’ll do my best to make sure that Matt, the gregarious guy I know and love, has my support. Not just this month, but ongoing. It’ll take a lot of love and support. Which can be as simple as giving one of his kids a ride to practice.
We can’t fill the void, but I hope we can make it slightly less scary.
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