First off, Happy Belated Thanksgiving to everyone! And thank you for all the kind wishes that I had received in turn. Over the past seven years that I had lived in Los Angeles, Thanksgiving had become one of my favorite holidays- next to Christmas. I fondly look back on last year’s Thanksgiving and feel immense gratitude that we were able to celebrate that day together with Tyler at home in San Pedro. By that time, we had transferred Tyler out of the hospital down to his parents’ place.

Dennis and I went into our usual routine: Prepping the Turduck. We’d get up in the morning and with scalpels in our hands, both of us would start deboning one bird each. Last year I had climbed up the food chain in the Turduck prepping hierarchy; from being the novice- working the small bird- to being allowed to tackle the big bird. One has to celebrate the small achievements. Here’s a thanks to you Dennis! In parallel, we started on the stuffing, which was hilarious on its own. Dennis’ attitude is “the more the merrier”, whereas I am more selective. In the end, we found a healthy middle ground (i.e. a “no” on orange juice, but a definite “yes” on beer). Armed with yarn and needle we then assembled and sewed the two-bird concoction into a tight bundle with stuffing leaking left and right (we like stuffing) and put it into the oven. At that point, the kitchen looked like a battlefield (according to a neighbor who had come over to wish us a Happy Thanksgiving. They opted for Mary Calendar’s. It’s amazing the feast you can get delivered. Again, one has to love the US- and no I’m not being sarcastic here). We tidied up the worst and went for our traditional pre-feast run along the San Pedro cliffs.

Throughout all this cooking action, Tyler was in the living room, nestled on the couch, watching us, listening to our chitchat and negotiations around the stuffing. He then told me that he loved hearing us laugh and having a good time. It was balm in my heart. Though precarious, the world was still whole, as he was still with us. Though Tyler couldn’t really eat, we made sure to have the Thanksgiving party tray of ice-treats ready for him as well.

At any given point in time, either one of the three of us would be on ice treat patrol. As most of you know, at that point, Tyler had trouble eating solid food and keeping it down. Instead, to get him his calories and nutrition, we’d help him hook up a liquid IV nutrition over night. Nonetheless, one of his favorite treats became the so-called ice-treats; little cubes of frozen sodas or fruit juices or a mix thereof. Tyler didn’t ask for much. Maybe we all wished he had asked for more, as all of us wanted to help and make things- life- better for Tyler. So here was something that would make Tyler happy- and we all jumped into action. In the process, our ice treat manufacturing skills improved, so did the material, and with it the client’s reviews. We found the perfect little ice cube tray, which in combination with a mini funnel produced just the right treats- accordingly to Tyler’s expert opinion. His taste for different flavors tended to change, so we had to adjust on the fly (not that easy, as it takes a while to become frozen). We diversified the offering, and came up with completely new cocktails to satisfy Tyler’s palate. Amongst his favorites were Cranberry juice mixed with Sprite, plain Coke- that was a staple, and plain Sprite. Plain Cranberry juice tasted good, but didn’t give the right texture because of the lack of CO2. Ginger Ale was a favorite for a period of time to change up things a bit, Cherry Coke- didn’t last too long, Fanta and other orange-flavored beverages weren’t the hit and were dismissed accordingly. We had a little conveyer belt production going- we’d pour several variety trays during the day and store the treats in a container in the freezer. So that when Tyler had a craving for a certain flavor we’d have it on hand. It was too cute and we all cherished that Tyler gave us something to do for him to make his eyes light up. He was very particular about the amount and type of treats. It was either five or seven, but never four or six treats. With the most adorable puppy eyes he’d ask, ‘can I have seven more?’ Of course you can, you can have as many as you want…

And then of course, dinner was lovely and very special. The Turduck was cooked to perfection, the stuffing yummy (the final negotiations paid off), sides were great, and ice treats were well done. Well, this year’s Thanksgiving was rather different: I was at work and had Muesli and oatmeal for dinner. Nonetheless, I had wonderful conversations with friends and family on the phone and felt very lucky that so many of you shared your Thanksgiving experiences and feasts with me. So here’s to Thanksgiving and to family!

Here's to you Tyler!

Abrupt change in topic: It has been a while since my last blog entry. A lot has happened and I wanted to take the opportunity to provide a little update, starting with the recent one first. (Disclaimer: For all of you who may not know me that well, there will be sarcasm in some of the passages below and thus, not to be taken literally).:

Los Angeles Cancer Challenge 2012

Unbelievable, so many of you turned out to join us again on this year’s team Tyler. Dennis, Yvonne, and I were incredibly touched and very happy to see so many of our friends and family come together to walk and run in memory and remembrance of Tyler. We had participants travel from as far as Sacramento, San Francisco, Seattle, even the UK, and greater Los Angeles (not to be dismissed- one never knows what can take longer, the 405 or a cross-country flight). Thank you. Thank you all.

As in past years, Nate brought the Long Beach Polly Girls Cross-Country Team up for the day. They had to rest as they had an important race coming up the following Thursday. But thank you for the moral support! I got to chitchat with some of them and in turn, they invited me to join them for the upcoming Moor League Finals at Heartwell Park in Long Beach (I’ve probably butchered this- my apologies, Natan and Becky ☺). I actually managed to make my way over the next Thursday to watch them in action and to rock the 5K: Jessica Gonzales broke the record from 2009 and racing as a team (Jessica, Sara, Mari, Georgia, and Maddy) they broke the 2009 team-record (and that with a half-broken finger…). What a performance! Well done, girls!! And then of course, Becky brought heaps of her marvelous and delicious granola bars to this year’s LACC 2012 race. Given that so many people by now look forward to this annual treat, maybe we can post the recipe on this blog (unless it’s an old family secret).

It was amazing to see all of you together and to get the chance to catch up. I think I speak for both, Dennis and Yvonne, when I say that we tried to talk to everyone of you. I felt like a puppy at times, not knowing where to turn next. And trust me that was a good thing. I was thrilled and super happy to be surrounded by such a wonderful circle of people.

Okay, that’s enough of the soft talk; let’s get down to business. We did incredibly well in the 5K- easily sweeping first place as team Tyler. Spence, Ross, Nate, and Alex came in the top 10, closely followed by Gardner, Tom and Amy (go Amy- amazing!!!). Real solid performance!

Unfortunately, we couldn’t repeat our double-victory from last year. We ended up coming in second in the 10K. We had two strong front-runners, John- flown in from the UK- and his friend Daniel, who clocked in 14th and 3rd overall. Then, there was none for a long time until Tiana and myself. I can’t speak for Tiana, but I can’t seriously be relied on to play an integral part in the overall group time. I’m happy if I come hobbling over the finish line.

Assessing our running potential, we could have taken first in the 10K as well. For next year, I see room for improvement and a definite optimization of our forces. Tom, I leave this responsibility with you. I’ll admit, I’m only good at trash talking and giving advice, but I will hand over the strategy and the tactical execution to you. If you want, I can make a PowerPoint slide deck…

Again, thank you all for coming out and join us that day. It was so great spending time with you. We appreciate that you took the time to be with us, we really, really do. Tyler would have been extremely proud and touched, seeing all this love and care.

I think pictures can tell more than a hundred words. So here are some impressions of the day:

Tyler- during the LACC 2010:

This year's group picture:

Left close ups of the group picture:

Middle close up of group picture:

Right close up of group picture:

Dennis, on to round 2:

Ross and Natan approaching finish line:

Natan and Ross, strong finish:

Tom LA:

Amy:

Polly Cross Country Girls:

I miss you hubbily...

April 23, 2012: Thinking of you on your birthday, little hubbily

You have the key to my inner story. You hear my songs and sing them with me... Thinking of you today, my love.



What an amazing man, what a handsome fellow, what a smile... A smile that brightened all of my days, no matter how dim and desperate situations appeared. It instilled comfort, and it was the best medicine for any ailment. I will never forget the moments where we would burst into laughter, usually over little things. You know, the little things that spring up during the course of a relationship and that are only understood and special to the two of you. I treasured these moments, as they would fill my heart with warmth as well as with a modest feeling of pride and inner satisfaction that I somehow, unintentionally, managed to trigger the right spots that would make Tyler laugh out loud. Many things were out of my control, but knowing that I made him happy in these moments, making us forget about the worries and uncertainties that were with us at all times, meant the world to me.

I miss that smile, and I miss that wonderful sound of his laughter.

These pictures were taken exactly one year ago. Looking at them, who would have ever thought that Tyler wouldn’t be with us today. It was his 30th birthday and in true Tyler fashion he rose above his disease to celebrate it with the due activities. (I was tempted to use the word “due respect”, but “activities” is clearly a better word to be used together with Tyler in the same sentence ;).

I had offered to organize the day, but he wouldn’t have any of that. He had a plan, and what a plan it was. He just told me to pack for any occasion- I had to chuckle, as I was very familiar with this expression of his. And I knew, that he wasn’t just making empty promises, but that he would fully come through on them. Many of you know the story, so I will only provide a summary of the events of that day:
When I stepped out of the apartment, there was a gorgeous Porsche waiting for me and in it was this handsome young man, wearing a baby-blue collared shirt and sexy jeans. He knew how much I liked baby blue one him… The dark hair, the green eyes- a perfect contrast against the light blue. He was such a considered husband and so very loving. Again, it’s the little things…
It turned out that Tyler had rented the Porsche for that day- fulfilling one of his dreams. The first stop was the Wildlife station in Irvine, where they take care of exotic animals that have been found, rescued, or taken away from their owners. The fun part of this tour was not so much to look at the various animals (clearly, the L.A. zoo has a leg up), but more to hear about the stories behind it. I think my favorite story came with the 4-foot lizard. Apparently, it had been the house pet of a lady, who treated this reptile like a dog. It was even allowed to sleep in the bed with her. When she was faced with financial hardship, she decided to apply for a roommate. And guess what, surprisingly, the roommate was not sharing any of her warm feelings for this cold-blooded animal. Frankly, a gecko is cute. A free-roaming 4-foot lizard? Not so much. The police ended up taking the lizard away. And there were more of these stories of similar nature. It was just a great idea and these memories will stay with me forever.
After the Wildlife habitat we were off to Universal Studios to go “sky-diving” in the glass tube. I first was worried that Tyler wouldn’t be able to do it as he had trouble walking and was wearing his braces. It was just amazing to see how well he did. I was so proud of him for so many reasons. You know how many people tend to give up on them and put a mental block up in their heads when faced with much smaller handicaps and negative life events than what Tyler had to deal with, preventing them from living life? Even in his impaired state, Tyler managed to find an exciting and thrilling experience that he could do. He wasn’t waiting for someone else to encourage him nor did he dwell in self-pity or let depression get the better of him. It just comes to show that there are so many fantastic opportunities in this world, one just has to be willing to open the eyes, continue to nurture the passion for life, and be grateful and appreciative for all that lies right in front of you. From all the people that I know, Tyler was able to see and feel these opportunities and the beauty that are abound in the world more than anyone else. Enjoying the little things in life is definitely one of the many things that I have learned from him, and that I will always be grateful for. Being able to experience joy in the most inconspicuous aspects of life can put a smile on your face, brighten up your day, and provide you with the positive energy to make it through a tough day. In a sense, when people ask me how I am doing and how I am coping, I think it's exactly this attitude that gets me through the day. Tyler would have given anything to be with us today, as his love for life was palpable and unending.




After the skydiving we drove down to Long Beach to meet up with Dennis and Yvonne for a boat tour through the Venice canals followed by a dinner at the Crab Pot. I remember as it was yesterday; the sunset was stunning and when we took the pictures of the four of us kicking back on the boat, the light lit up our faces with a golden hue, making our smiles glow. I had brought "funny" glasses to celebrate the occasion in true Venice Beach style. Dennis was literally blinded by his fashionable eye-wear, at times we were a bit worried that he wasn't quite sure where he was steering the boat toward. So for the sake of the safety of the passengers, he didn't wear them too long. Luckily, we got some decent shots of him. Of course, Tyler got the birthday-candle glasses, while Yvonne transformed into a bright sea star, and well, I opted for the laid-back chill out glasses. (In a way, I guess it was a good pick for me. 4 days before his passing, while I was "tornadoing" [Tyler's expression of me hovering] around him, he called me the cutest nickname: Tinkerbell on crack. I love it, own it, and proudly wear it. So if you ever happen to see it as a username, you now know who it is]. It was such a lovely evening, laughing and enjoying each others company, cherishing this precious moment of joy and beauty. What else can you ask for? My heart goes out to you, Dennis and Yvonne. There are no words capabable of soothing the loss of our loved Tyler. Fortunately, we share dear moments like these, that will forever remain vivid in our lives, bring us together, and lift our hearts. I am incredibly grateful for the two of you and for the love and care that you have and that you continue to so graciously show me.

I digress, back to the day: We didn’t have too much time to linger as Tyler had reserved a room in downtown L.A. at the Bonaventure Hotel. I couldn't but comment on the route that he had chosen that day. He really optimized the amount of road we covered in the Porsche that day. And boy can I tell you how much fun it was to drive into the sunset, feeling light and worry-free in his little race care. It was just wonderful to watch him truly enjoy his gadget for the day. At the hotel, I think Tyler got the biggest kick when the valet guy winked at him, saying: “Nice car, son.” He would refer to this moment as feeling a sense of pride that he was getting the respect from the valet guy. He was so cute. Thank you Tyler for an unforgettable day, that will remain etched into my mind.



Yes, these are boob-glasses with lace ;) It's okay, he's an Ob/Gyn. Have you seen the poster in the guest bathroom? This is harmless!




It is incredibly difficult to grasp that all this was only one year ago. There were so many instances where Tyler’s condition was precarious, but somehow, miraculously, he always bounced back- amazing us, as well as the physicians. I truly believed that this would go on for many more years. I believed that this incredibly strong heart of his would continue to beat and carry him forward as it had done so reliably throughout all these taxing times.

Remember when Dennis wrote in the obituary about the rich and full life that Tyler was living? I knew that we had a very active lifestyle and this sentiment is being underscored on a daily basis. Since Tyler’s passing, there hasn’t been a day where there hasn’t been a reminder- a place, an event, a show, a book, an article- that didn’t remind me somehow of a experience that we had shared together. Just the other day I had traveled for business to Croatia. While having dinner at this beautiful restaurant nestled within the little harbor village, we saw sail boats go by, the smell of the ocean breeze, the moisture in the air, the seagulls circling high above in the sky- reminding me of our many sail and boating trips to Catalina and Angel Island. Now that Spring is announcing itself and the first flowers are showing their pretty colors, reaching their petals out to the sun after a long and cold winter, I can’t but help to stop and admire, seeing Tyler’s smile in front of me. He loved smelling flowers… Or the squirrel that frisked by me the other day. It was orange with a big bushy tail, the most adorably plush adorned little ears, and the curious eyes that quickly graced me with attention before disappearing in the crown of the tree. Tyler and I had a thing for squirrels. Somehow, it had become our little invisible scoundrel. No worries, I dont' think we were crazy. Hmmm, maybe just a little- but in a cute way. If I couldn't find my keys, or if the remote control was misplaced, or if one of us happened to make digestive sounds, either of us would look up and say: Arrrrg, The squirrel- that little mischievous thingy! or "The Veverka (squirrel in Czech), again!" And then we would just laugh. It’s amazing how such events can trigger an instant replay of past memories. Tyler, you have given me one of the most precious gifts. Though you are not with us physically, I can feel your presence and see your smile everywhere in the world around me. It is remarkable to have flashbacks on a daily basis, eternalizing our shared memories and our live together.

Tyler, you are missed so dearly, especially today. I love you, and always will.




I'll never forget your bright smile and I can hear you laugh wherever I may be.


[...]"And at night you will look up at the stars. Where I live everything is so small that I cannot show you where my star is to be found. It is better, like that. My star will just be one of the stars, for you. And so you will love to watch all the stars in the heavens... they will all be your friends. And, besides, I am going to make you a present..."
He laughed again.
"Ah, little prince, dear little prince! I love to hear that laughter!"
"That is my present. Just that. It will be as it was when we drank the water..."
"What are you trying to say?"
"All men have the stars," he answered, "but they are not the same things for different people. For some, who are travelers, the stars are guides. For others they are no more than little lights in the sky. For others, who are scholars, they are problems. For my businessman they were wealth. But all these stars are silent. You-- you alone-- will have the stars as no one else has them--"
"What are you trying to say?"
"In one of the stars I shall be living. In one of them I shall be laughing. And so it will be as if all the stars were laughing, when you look at the sky at night... you-- only you-- will have stars that can laugh!"
And he laughed again.
"And when your sorrow is comforted (time soothes all sorrows) you will be content that you have known me. You will always be my friend. You will want to laugh with me. And you will sometimes open your window, so, for that pleasure... and your friends will be properly astonished to see you laughing as you look up at the sky! Then you will say to them, 'Yes, the stars always make me laugh!' And they will think you are crazy. It will be a very shabby trick that I shall have played on you..."
And he laughed again.
"It will be as if, in place of the stars, I had given you a great number of little bells that knew how to laugh..."
And he laughed again. [...]

The Little Prince

Memorial, speeches

Thank you all for coming to Tyler's Memorial last Saturday. Your presence meant a lot to Tyler's parents and I. Many of you asked for us to post the slideshow and the speeches:































Tom Allen's speech:

Thank you all for coming today. I know it would mean so much for Tyler that you
are here. Tyler knew he was loved, but he was so humble that he would never imagine that so many of you would be here. I am grateful to have the opportunity to speak about my dear friend. I have thought about this moment for a long time, and have struggled because it is impossible to put into words what Tyler meant to me. To help me, I want to read you a little from the eulogy that Ted Kennedy gave for his brother Robert.

"He gave us strength in time of trouble, wisdom in time of uncertainty, and sharing in time of happiness. He will always be by our side. Love is not an easy feeling to put into words. Nor is loyalty, or trust, or joy. But he was all of these. He loved life completely and he lived it intensely. And What it really all adds up to is love -- not love as it is described with such facility in popular magazines, but the kind of love that is affection and respect, order and encouragement, and support. Our awareness of this was an incalculable source of strength, and because real love is something unselfish and involves sacrifice and giving, we could not help but profit from it."

We are joined here in our grief, but it is our love of Tyler and our happy memories of a wonderful man that brought us all here together. Tyler was many things to us. He was a son, a nephew, a husband, a friend, and an inspiration. He was known as "grinder" for those of us who were lucky enough to witness him on the dance floor. He was a restless dreamer, tough and never broken by this disease, who loved adventure, the ocean, this American life, slurpees, the simpsons, his Cutie, and all of us.

Dennis and Yvonne, we have all come here to celebrate Tyler’s life, the life you gave him. What you have had to go through is impossible for us to understand completely. but it is clear that Tyler got his fortitude, strength, and capacity to care for others from you. The child you raised so beautifully became a man who was loved and gave immense love in return.

Eva, your strength and love saw Tyler through this. He loved you more than I have ever seen a person love another. He loved you from the day you met him, when this shy young man decided to ask out the- in his words- "hottest woman he had ever seen." He tried to win you over by telling you about his "yacht." But like the rest of us, you were drawn in by his humor, his kindness, his cool hair, and his love of life. You brought him real joy, and as I'm sure you know, you were everything to him.

We do not need to idealize or enlarge Tyler in his death beyond what he was in life. For what Tyler was, every day of his life, before and after his diagnosis was the true embodiment of so many things that all of us strive to be. A dreamer, a believer, a teacher, a friend, a lover and a son.

Even in his pain, even while submitting to the tyranny of ventilators and chemotherapy,Tyler genuinely cared about the wellbeing of others. He was a legend in the hospital: doctors would pop in just to chat with their remarkable patient. He would ask every nurse “how’s your day going”; No matter what kind of problems they were having, everyone he came into contact with realized that here was a generous and courageous young man, in a situation that none of us could possibly imagine, caring how their lives were. I see a group of people who loved Tyler. And I can say with absolute certainty that each us feels immensely fortunate that he shared his life with us. He helped us grow. He showed us courage, integrity, and strength. We are the greater for knowing Tyler and we owe it to him to expand the ripple of love that he showed us, to pass it on to both the people we love and those that we barely know.

About a year and a half ago Tyler and I took a trip to Hawaii together. During that trip we talked about how he wanted to be remembered. A couple of days after the trip he wrote me the following: " I want my story to inspire people to be better than they are. To make people think bigger than they are. To realize that we all have the capacity to be incredible individuals, and that we can get there by dedicating ourselves to being our very best selves." A couple of minutes later I got another text from him. It read: "I think I need to start living it before I start preaching it."
And that is the extraordinary thing about this man. He was so humble that he never realized his own abilities and the impact that he had on others. He just lived his life the only way he knew how, and thought he was like everyone else.

In all my time with Tyler, one of the things that I never heard him say was "Why me?" He was never angry about his diagnosis, never blamed anyone or anything. But I've struggled a lot over the last five years with understanding how this unbelievable person got burdened with this disease. It just never made sense to me, and couldn't possibly be right. But over the last two weeks, in thinking about Tyler's life and speaking with his friends and family, I have developed a theory. I have seen countless examples of people who met Tyler and in a very short amount of time, he made their lives better and from a very young age he did the same with those who have known him longest and closest. I have seen him take the worry, the anger, the anxiety, and the pain out of other people's lives and out of my own life with his indomitable spirit. So in a certain sense I believe that Tyler took all these negative things from the lives of those who were lucky enough to know him and bottled it all into this tumor in his pancreas. And that was his gift to us. Over these last five and a half years he wasn’t just fighting for himself, he was fighting for all of us.

The final thing that I would like to share with you about Tyler today is this: There have been times during the last five and a half years, where I found myself being immensely sad because I couldn't remember what Tyler was like when he was healthy. Tyler fought for so long that I couldn't remember the soccer player, the runner, the sailor and the adventurer. But a video Eva took of him made me realize that I don't need to remember those times. For up until the night that he died, he was loving, playful, curious, full of life and joy, grateful for everything that he had, he wanted to impress his beautiful wife, and show his parents how much he loved them. So when you watch this video I want you toremember, and experience Tyler's immense spirit with me. Because His spirit never changed.

Because I know he would want it no other way, please join me as I raise my slurpee for this man we all loved so much.

In Tyler's simple words: dude, its been awesome. I'm going to miss my friend, his laugh, his kindness, his wisdom and the adventures that we shared. I love you Tyler.




A Best Friend and a Brother
From Tiana Kahakauwila
Tyler and I met when I was eleven and he was twelve, at the end of sixth grade at Hughes Middle School. By ninth grade we were best friends. Together we weathered teenage heartache and triumph; we told each other our hopes for the future.
Perhaps it’s because we were both only children--and because we loved being only children—we made our friendship into a sibling relationship. We used to joke that we hated to share stuff. So having each other was the best of both worlds: We had a partner in crime but we got to keep our parents to ourselves. And like siblings, we could be competitive; we were at times brutal with our teasing. But we laughed a lot—all the time, really—and we trusted each other completely. We were also wholly honest with each other; no secrets existed between us, no doubts that weren’t admitted to, no dreams that weren’t confided.
Tyler was a huge dreamer, and he was an expert at living—long before he was diagnosed. He was a man of activity: He played the saxophone, ran, water-skied, sailed, surfed, played soccer. There wasn’t a sport he didn’t do, do well, and couldn’t talk you into trying. How many people did he teach to water-ski? Or convince to go sailing? Or zoom through city streets with in his dad’s blue Miata? Being with him was being with endless adventure. Once, in college, we started talking about how in Long Beach you can see the snow-covered mountains of San Bernadino at the same time you’re enjoying the beach. And next thing I knew, Tyler had Steve Scott and I caught up in one of his grand schemes: water-skiing in the morning and then snow-skiing in the afternoon. And somewhere in there we’d get the boat back to its slip; we’d rent skis. We’d make the two hour drive. Oh, we’d be fine; we just had to go.
Years later, when he was dating Eva, he convinced her to hike the Bridge to Nowhere, a 10-mile bush-wacking trek. Then, he said, they were going to rinse off, speed by the Fashion District in L.A. to buy her a dress, and go to the Mark Taper Forum for an evening of theater. Afterwards, they’d have an intimate dinner. And did she have anything planned for tomorrow? Because the next day they could…
Tyler needed the wide group of diverse friends he had. He needed them because he was exhausting!
When I lived in New York City he used to stop-over for a couple of days before he headed to Switzerland to see Eva. I’d get off from work and he’d be waiting outside, leaning James Dean-like against a building. Had I ever been to the top of the Empire State Building? Was the ice-skating rink open in Central Park? Did I want to try and climb on top of the bull statue on Wall Street? And then it was off to dinner—and didn’t we have friends to call? And why weren’t they up at 2am? And were we still running at 6am in the morning because he had to get to the Met when they opened… To me, the best part was that after three exhausting-thrilling-wonderful days—after which I needed four days of sleep to recover—he was off to whirlwind Eva!
In addition to being thrilling, Tyler was unbelievably charming. But it was never about him. He wasn’t charming to get attention. Rather, he was lavish with his attention. He was every nurse’s favorite; he always asked them how their day was, how they were doing. And it wasn’t just polite chit-chat. He really wanted to know, and he remembered what they said. He was like that with everyone. He had a way of positioning himself as a listener in the conversation. He asked questions. He wanted to know about you.
And there wasn’t a person about whom he couldn’t find something fascinating or intriguing. Every woman was beautiful: whether it was her eyes or confidence or elbows, he found something. And every man had the potential to be a great friend. Tyler saw humans in the best light.
As a friend, this was one of his most heart-breakingly beautiful offerings. He always saw your potential, the possibility for what you could be, while still loving you just as you were. And you responded: You wanted to be as good as he saw you, as he was.
As I said before, Tyler was an expert at living, but he saw himself as a student of life. Most of us, however, look to him as a teacher. He was, and is, a model for living. By the way he lived, and loved, he showed us how to live well and love fully. Sometimes, when I have a decision to make, I ask myself: “What would Tyler do?” How would he dive into this opportunity? How would he handle this fear? What kindness would he offer in this situation?
Tyler had long been concerned that I, as a writer, might fail to get out into the world. Years ago he told me he feared I would hole up in an attic somewhere and commit words to a page and never see the sun rise or set. I wouldn’t DO. I wouldn’t LIVE. I wouldn’t take some risks. He told me all this long before he was diagnosed. And I promised him I wouldn’t miss out on life and its adventures—and that I knew he wouldn’t let me.
This Christmas Tyler and I laughed a lot. I listened as Tyler and Eva shared the stories of how they met, fell in love, courted over years and countries and an ocean—Stories I know well and love. Stories I could hear a hundred times more, watching the two of them together. And Tyler and I were able to recount many of our best memories together, stories from more than 18 years of friendship.
At the end of Christmas break, just before I flew back to Hawai`i, Tyler told me he was proud of how I was living my life. His approval, his pride, his benediction… Few people’s blessing have meant as much as his. And few people have known me as well as he. He wasn’t just a best friend; he was my brother in every way.
When I think of how to honor Tyler—how to keep making him proud—I think of living as he did, his entire life. We can donate blood and platelets and join PANCAN (at PANCAN.org) in their advocacy. We can approach life with endless hope and appreciation. We can find joy in each day, as he did until the very last. And we can love the people in our life fully, with complete appreciation for the gift of each of them. Certainly, Tyler was a gift to each of us.