Traveling Tubie: Behind the Facebook Profile

Facebook is a good place to go if you want to see all the best highlights in your friends' lives. But, if you look through their profiles and believe each happy photo and amusing post isn't surrounded by several hours of boredom, misery, arguments, awkwardness, embarrassment, and desperation then you'll make yourself severely depressed believing you're the biggest loser you know.

At least that's what I tell myself.

If you're one of my Facebook friends and your life really is that awesome, then I hate you. Please post a picture of your perfect angel child vomiting on your face (I know you have one!!) so I can feel better about myself.

Even on this blog, the happy pictures and funny captions have a backstory.

We were freezing cold. Grace locked herself in our hotel bathroom.

I paid $50 for a stupid wand and I feel like an idiot.

The trip where I got a bad sunburn that ultimately led to me losing my arm.

I don't drink very often. When I do, I tend to get colds, which may turn into pneumonia.

The truth is, nobody wants to know about all the really bad stuff that happens. Just like when I say, "What's up" to some random dude at the gym, I don't really want to know about his messy divorce or the details of his latest gall bladder surgery. If I filled Facebook, or my blogs, with constant gripes about my physical ailments, then people would rapidly tune me out. This is why I try to sprinkle the bad stuff with my poor attempts at humor to make the feeding tube explosions, constant drooling, and amputations a little more palatable for the casual reader.

Our most recent trip to southwest Washington to visit my dad is no exception. For every exciting, cool picture that makes us look like a jet setting, happy-go-lucky family, there is a morass of anger and frustration simmering below the surface.

I was constantly worried about the sun on my neck

Traffic. Was. A. Nightmare.

Don't get me wrong. We had a great time in Washington and Oregon. Weather was perfect; a nice change from hot and muggy Tennessee. It was awesome seeing my sister and nephews, and letting Grace and her cousins play on the farm.

Dolly the horse is looking for my other arm

Training some future child laborers

They continued looking at the camera as they drove straight into a creek

Goonie Rocks!!!!!!!

My widowed grandmother is living with my dad now. Looking great!!

Kadin insisted on feeding me every time

We have to show the bad stuff to somebody though. I was reminded of this before dinner one night at my dad's house. I was leaned over the kitchen sink hacking up gunk that was lodged in the back of my throat.

This is a nightly ritual for me. I do it in our kitchen or in the bathroom. Usually, the amount of crud reaches a critical mass shortly before or after dinner and I start to gag on it. There's no time to make it to the bathroom to do it privately, so I end up hunched over the kitchen sink coughing it up. This is what Betsy and Grace are subjected to every evening. Sometimes, I'm forced to do it in the bathroom out at restaurants, but I try to avoid that. Nobody wants to see that stuff.

So, I finish nearly puking up a lung in my dad's kitchen. My dad quietly says "Do you do that every night?"

"Yes," I answer, "every night."

Later on, Betsy asked if I could just do it in the bathroom next time. I said no way, because I think my family and close friends should have to see the bad stuff. I'm not a big complainer, so most people have no idea about all the little, everyday struggles with my health. If you're only subjected to my Facebook profile, then you may think I'm living the dream, and every hardship is just laughed off with a corny joke. The truth is, I am living the dream. I have a great life, BUT there's a lot of shit that goes with it. There's no need for me to discuss every excruciating detail publicly. We all have our private battles with mental health, physical health, poverty, work, family, you name it. No need to talk about it with everyone we know (TMI).

However, at the same time, we have to vent to someone. I need the support of my family and close friends and to get that support, they have to understand the full extent of my health problems. I think this applies to everyone. With Facebook/Twitter/Instagram/etc., sometimes it's just difficult for us to get used to separating the public social media profile from our private lives.

But anyway, we had a wonderful trip to Washington!

I can count that kid's ribs!

Brave explorers journeying around the farm

Searching for crawdads with grandpa

Didn't really catch enough to make a meal

That stump is actually a slug. That's how big they get.

Brought enough Real Food Blends for lunch every day!

Bottomline, if I ever hack up a bunch of nasty looking stuff in front of you, then you should feel honored that I consider you a close enough friend to puke in your presence. That's how I show my love.

If you really loved me, you'd clean it up too.  You're welcome.

Remembrance

I've been kind of addicted to ancestry.com. You know, that site where you can build your family tree and research your ancestors, find distant cousins, discover whether anyone in your family owned slaves (yes, there are slave owners in my past, much to my shame), that sort of stuff. It gets addictive because for every relative, Ancestry gives you 'hints' that you can use like a birth certificate, census record, marriage record, or obituary that brings up more names to add to the family tree. "On May 27, 1880, Jane Doe married John Doe. Her parents are listed as William Tyler and Beatrice Grooms." OOOHHH! I didn't have their names! Let me add that to the tree! Oh, wait now there are 5 hints listed for Beatrice Grooms that point to siblings and more parents and each of those siblings was married and had 20 children. Pretty soon, the tree expands to enormous proportions when all you really set out to do was find out who your great great grandmother was. My tree has about 350 names now and I have to force myself to quit. The vast majority of names are on my father's side, because I was researching my grandparents' backgrounds a few years ago. I've also got some names on my mom's side and even Betsy's. I can see how people could just sit and spend hours at this, writing little backgrounds and timelines for each person on their tree. I've found distant cousins who spend a lot more time at this than I do. One cousin has traced our lineage all the way back to William Shakespeare. That's on my paternal grandfather's side. On my paternal grandmother's side, I'm a distant relative of President John Tyler, who is well known as being one of the worst Presidents in American history (yay!).

 

The resemblance is uncanny

All these names on Ancestry have highlighted for me what a short little blip our lives are. My great grandfather, William F. Liebenow III was born in 1882 in Wisconsin to parents who had just immigrated from Germany. All his older siblings were born in Germany. William went to a small college near Madison, joined a threshing crew that took him up the east coast until he found himself in Fredericksburg, Virginia. There, he started working for a lumber company. He fell in love with the owner's daughter, Mary Eastburn, they got married (despite the wishes of Mary's mother, who hated 'Yankees'), and had five children, one of whom was my grandfather. In another generation, William III will be just another name on a family tree. Even the limited background I know will be lost. All of my grandfather's siblings have passed away. One of his older sisters died as a child. The other two older sisters died childless about ten years ago. His younger brother, Uncle Pilly, died a few years ago. Uncle Pilly had two sons who are still alive, but they had no children. My grandfather had three grandchildren. Only my sister and I are left. In late February, much to my sorrow, my grandfather died at the age of 97. It seems there is no one left to tell their stories, and in a couple more generations, we will all just be names on a family tree with a year of birth and a year of death. Maybe a few additional notes if we're lucky.

This post took a dark turn, didn't it?

I wanted to share some thoughts I had about my grandfather.

For the first few years of his life, he lived in a farm house with his maternal grandmother. The house had no electricity or indoor plumbing. His grandmother had an African American woman who worked for her who was born a slave until she was freed after the Civil War as a teenager. The family called the woman "Aunt Susan." My grandfather followed Aunt Susan everywhere and she adored her little 'shadow' so much, she called him her 'buddy.' The name stuck, and from then on, grandpa was known as Buddy or Bud.

Bud was a hard worker, and he learned it at a young age. Times were tight during the Great Depression for the Liebenow's. Everyone was expected to earn money, since William's lumber job wasn't paying enough to cover all the bills. Bud had his first job when he was nine, selling three different magazines door-to-door, making as little as 1.5 cents for each magazine sold. From then on, Bud had a job, from working on a dairy farm, to running a paper route, to driving a lumber truck. He even had a short job distributing bootleg liqueur with some other kids during Prohibition. He remembered that one of his customers was an Episcopal minister who insisted that the alcohol be delivered through a back alley so no one would see it. Though life was hard during those years (a typical Christmas present was an orange), there was always food on the table and there were daily visits from denizens of the town's 'hobo jungle' looking for handouts to remind the family that things could always be worse.

My grandfather was tough and fearless. There was an older bully in school who "took a shine" to Bud. He led Bud up to other kids and said, "hit him," forcing grandpa to hit the other boy and start a fight. Bud recalled one fight on the playground when he knocked the other kid's head back so hard, it broke the glasses of another boy watching the fight.

Image of grandpa's first school in 1925

Bud was a boxer from high school through his years fighting in the war. He was known by fellow navy soldiers as "the fighting fool." This wasn't just for his boxing reputation, but for his fearlessness during combat. 

 

Relaxing during some downtime

On one occasion, Bud's PT 157 was escorting a Marine landing craft to a beachhead in the South Pacific when they came under attack by Japanese dive bombers. Bud quickly had his crew steer their own 80 foot, plywood PT boat away from the landing craft to draw the enemy fire away from the Marines. On another occasion, Bud's PT boat got caught between two destroyers on a dark, moonless night. They came under blistering crossfire, putting more than 50 holes along the side of their boat but miraculously, no one was hurt. The destroyers both turned because it was too dark to pinpoint the PT boat's location. Bud used the brief lull in the action to check on his crew. They discovered that one of their three engines was completely dead from enemy fire and the mechanic had to coax a second engine back to life after severe damage. Despite the damage to his ship, Bud turned the boat around, sped toward one of the retreating destroyers and scored a hit with one of his torpedoes. He was awarded the silver star for his actions that night.

 

Grandpa's in shorts, 8th from the left

After rescuing Kennedy and the crew of the PT 109 (see my blog post about it if you want his account of that night), Bud was reassigned to the European theater, where he made numerous covert runs to Normandy Beach before D-Day. On these missions, his PT 199 would pull in close to the beach and Bud and another crewman would quietly row a small dinghy to shore to get soil samples, or meet with French resistance operatives under the noses of German sentries. On D-Day, my grandfather's PT 199 escorted gun ships close to shore so they could fire on German batteries. During the invasion, the allied destroyer USS Corry struck a mine and simultaneously came under heavy fire from German artillery. The Corry sunk and Bud's PT 199 picked up more than 60 survivors during a constant barrage from the Nazi defenses. He was awarded the bronze star for his actions on D-Day.

Bud, at left, on PT 199

Grandpa epitomized the ideal of the 'Citizen Soldier.' He detested the peacetime Navy, constantly having to wear a uniform, with good sailors getting chewed out for minor rule infractions. He left the service, turned his back on war and became a railroad chemist. Other than his 1960 campaign support at various rallies in Michigan for the man he shared a tent with in the South Pacific, and his attendance at JFK's inauguration, Bud stayed out of the spotlight. He lived a quiet life with the woman who helped him through physics class when he was a senior back at Randolph Macon (my grandmother was only a freshman; she's kinda smart). They raised a daughter and son (my father). 

Showing off his first born son, 1946

My dad and Aunt Susan, sledding with their dad at their Michigan home, ~1953

After 30 years working for the railroad, the couple bought a small house on a golf course on North Carolina's Abemarle Sound. I grew up 30 minutes away, where my father worked at a paper mill. I have so many good memories of my grandparents' house on the water. Fishing with grandpa; checking the crab pots; playing tennis down the street, my complete lack of skill at golf, lazy days laying on their hammock, so many fantastic meals, courtesy of Grammy. 

Who is that adorable boy playing with his grandpa?

Compared to Grandpa's young life, mine was so privileged and I have him to thank for that.

I have such admiration for Bud Liebenow. His courage. His quiet modesty about his past. The love he had for his wife of nearly 75 years. 

Dancing at my wedding in 2002

The life lessons he taught me growing up on everything from how to sail a boat, to civic engagement are priceless to me. In the end, Bud Liebenow is a pair of dates on the family tree, 1920-2017. But like the rest of his generation, he witnessed so many changes, hardship and tumultuous days. The Great Depression, World War II, the Kennedy assassination, the moon landing, seeing a son through two tours in Vietnam, Watergate, losing a grandson to cancer, 9/11, technological changes from commercial flight to smart phones. He met all challenges with quiet fortitude. Like any boxer, when he suffered setbacks, he picked himself up and kept fighting. We all lost something the day this man died.

Grace's favorite photo of grandpa

Bud and Lucy, March 2016

I did a blog! (Not here though)

Hello,

I thought you should know, if you don't follow me on facebook, I did a blog post about my trip to Germany in December 2015. It's actually a guest post on the tubechic.com blog site (here's the link: http://tubechic.com/the-traveling-tubie-aka-the-tube-dude-has-this-weeks-post/). 

If you've never heard of the tubechic blog, you should check it out. The tubechic, AKA Diane Massey Stormer, is a fellow adult tubie and she is building a very informative website about all things tube related. One project she's working on is making adult clothing that incorporates ports for tube feeding. This would be huge. Women, especially, are restricted with the way they dress in order to eat during the day. I really admire Diane for the amount of time she's investing in making tube feeders' lives better.

That's all I wanted to say. I'm working on a blog post that has nothing to do with tube feeding. It's about my grandfather, who passed away at the end of February. It's been very hard for me to write because he was such a huge presence in my life, and I don't know how to express this loss. Still processing it, I guess. In the meantime, here's a nice obituary from the New York Times: https://www.nytimes.com/2017/02/28/us/william-liebenow-pt-boat-skipper-rescued-jfk.html?_r=0. 

Disney, Take 2

2016 was a pretty sucky year for me personally, but I have high hopes for 2017. So far, it hasn't let me down with a trip to Orlando and a chance to see my mom, uncle, sister, brother-in-law, and my two nephews. 

We're in front of the Tree of Life at Animal Kingdom which, ironically, is not alive

My uncle Larry told my sister, mom, and I that if we could pay for airfare to Orlando, he would pay for all of us to stay at Disney's Polynesian Resort along with meal plans and 4 days of park tickets. For this reason, my mother-in-law would like to adopt my uncle Larry into Betsy's side of the family, preferably before summer break.

I wear that hat every day

So, we got to go to Disney World AGAIN after having gone a couple years ago. How lucky could we be?? I'm worried Grace will start thinking these sorts of trips and luxury resort stays are commonplace, so we've started forcing her to sleep in the cupboard under the stairs. That reminds me, Betsy and I decided to fly down to Florida a couple days early so we could spend a day at Universal Studios' The Wizarding World of Harry Potter. Grace and I have been dying to see it, so we spent two nights at the Cabana Bay Beach Resort and visited the park on New Year's Eve.

The Cabana Bay was a great place to stay, other than the constant annoying 50s music. It's cheaper than the other hotels at the park. I ate most of my meals at their cafeteria. I could just order a meal, put it in my blender, find an outlet near our table, and blend up my food right there. I had two breakfasts and a dinner this way.

Grace is making her just-finish-eating-so-we-can-go-to-the-park face

On New Year's Eve, we ate at Jimmy Buffett's Margaritaville where I ordered a chicken Cobb salad. I could've ordered a burger with gluten-free bun, but I'm always afraid to order stuff like bread, potatoes, rice, or pasta because it thickens the blend, and the volume of the meal turns out really big. I'm also afraid to get steak because the Vitamix often misses fat or gristle that ends up getting stuck in the tube. So, I usually opt for salad or seafood. 

"If they play 'Margaritaville' one more time, I will murder someone."

We spent a day at Diagon Alley--which was AMAZING. It took us a while to convince Grace to ride the Escape From Gringott's ride, but she liked it so much, she had to ride two more times. Betsy and Grace had lunch at the Leaky Cauldron and I had a couple Real Food Blends. Grace tried her hardest to stay up until midnight to ring in the New Year, but only made it to 11:30.

Fun fact: Butterbeer is 15% butter by volume

I have the Dumbledore wand, Grace has Hermione's

Just a muggle eating his Real Food Blend and his half-blood princess

The next day, my uncle picked us up at Universal and drove us over to Shades of Green military resort, across the street from Disney World's Polynesian resort. After checking in, we ate dinner at the Italian restaurant there, where I had the veal piccata (I know this breaks my 'salad or seafood' rule, but I figured veal was a safe bet).  

Hi, Uncle Larry! He doesn't use the internet so I doubt he'll ever read this.

My sister, her family, and my mom flew in from Germany that evening and we spent one night at Shades of Green, before moving over to the Polynesian the next day. They served gluten-free waffles at the Polynesian's Capt. Cook's so I had breakfast there before we headed out to Animal Kingdom. I think last time we went to Disney, I said Animal Kingdom is like a really crowded zoo. I still think that's an accurate assessment. Pretty much all the animals I saw are also at Knoxville's zoo and I don't have to fight a mob of people to see them. However, I also still think Everest is the best roller coaster in the park. Grace and the other kids were too afraid to ride, but my brother-in-law, Betsy and I rode it. We all rode the Kali River Rapids twice too. Grace loves that one and at 80 degrees, we were all hot enough to go. Once again, I had a Real Food Blend for lunch in the park.

You do a bunch of walking at the Disney parks. I didn't do a whole lot of exercising last year, especially after my surgery, so I was worried I'd have a hard time keeping up with everyone. But, I did pretty well. My iphone tracks my steps and the distance I've walked every day. I don't know how precise it is, but according to the Health app, from Friday, Dec. 30, to Friday, Jan. 6, I walked 107,452 steps for a total of 38.6 miles. I know it's not that impressive, but I felt good about not needing a cane and still being able to hang out with the kids without any falls.

That first night at Disney, I had dinner over at the Contemporary Resort at a restaurant called The Wave. I got chicken breasts and had a horrible time with clogs. Has anyone else blended their meals in one of the wider pitchers that come with the commercial Vitamix? If so, please reply in the comments. Our chef at The Wave was super nice. He offered to blend my meal up in their own Vitamix so I wouldn't have to get my own dirty. But, as soon as I tried to push the food in, I got a clog. We sent the blend back and asked him to blend some more. This happens sometimes, but it always gets fixed after we send it back. But my tube STILL clogged. So, we sent it back again...clog...and again...clog. Finally, we asked the chef (Betsy thought he was really hot; is that why she kept asking to see him?) if he could blend the meal in my pitcher and it worked the first time. We think that the narrower pitchers condense the food up better as it blends to ensure every little bit gets liquified. Does that make sense? Anyone else have this experience? Regardless, from then on, we always asked the chefs if they were blending my meal up in a Vitamix with a narrow pitcher.

Disney, of course, will bend over backward to make sure their guests get the full, 'Happiest Place on Earth' experience. We ate at Magic Kingdom's Crystal Palace for lunch on Tuesday (thank you, chef Ruben!), Hollywood Studios' Sci-fi Dine-in Theater for lunch on Wednesday, and Epcot's Coral Reef Restaurant on Thursday (thank you, Chef Nathan!) and every time, the restaurant used their own Vitamix (with a narrow pitcher) so I didn't have to carry mine around the park. The one exception was the luau at the Polynesian on Thursday night (very impressive fire dancer!). They didn't have a Vitamix, but I didn't mind eating a couple Real Food Blends for dinner.

Chef Ruben is not at all concerned about his restaurant's rodent problem

I had honey in my meal and this bear wouldn't leave me alone!

My youngest nephew loves watching me eat and now Betsy wants to kidnap him

Chef Nathan at the Coral Reef

My Uncle Larry got us a meal plan for the week. Not sure where he got all the money for this but I have heard him mention that Walter White is loosely based on him? Don't know what that means, but thank you, Uncle Larry!! My nephews have celiac disease so both my sister and I ordered gluten free meals for breakfast every morning (gluten free waffles, eggs and bacon for me!). I just plugged up my Vitamix in the breakfast area where all the guests ate, blended my meal, and ate with whoever happened to be up.

It was awesome to see Grace together with her cousins. They get along really well and had a fantastic time at the parks. When we went to Disney two years ago, The Force Awakens hadn't come out in theaters yet, so there wasn't a whole lot of Star Wars stuff. This time, at Hollywood Studios, it was EVERYWHERE. There were storm troopers walking around asking little kids for their identification. Grace and her cousins did Jedi training, where they faced off against Darth Vader AND Kylo Ren (not at the same time; that would be suicide). There was a storm trooper march with Captain Phasma leading a squadron of troops up the street to their shuttle. There was a live show outside. There were a couple short films to watch in two different theaters. We waited in line to meet Chewbacca (we all hugged him and said we were sorry for his loss). We could've waited to meet Kylo Ren, but who wants to meet that asshole? And, naturally, we were encouraged to buy Star Wars merchandise. Uncle Larry gave us money to spend on souvenirs so the kids each got a remote control BB8 droid. I got a Lego Tie Fighter (because I'm 42, and I like Legos), then got home to discover I got a MODEL of a Tie Fighter, not the Lego. Models are way too grown up for me, so I'm going to return that sucker and get the toy I wanted (again, I'm 42).

Sorry kids, but you don't get to meet the wookie until I'm finished

Grace said she wished he would've tried harder, so next time, could you use a real light saber, you pansy?

Love these kids

"OH MY GOD, GET THIS *#!@*&#$ THING OFF MY HAND!!!! KILL IT!!! KILL IT!!!"

Grace had more sugar on this trip than she's ever had in her life

Since there was a forecast for snow back in Tennessee, I naturally went swimming every chance I got. I've heard some people don't go swimming with their feeding tubes, especially not in hot tubs, oceans, lakes, or rivers. I know parents, especially, are nervous about letting their tubie children expose themselves to potential toxins. I haven't let the tube stop me from swimming. I might be playing with fire but I've had the tube in all those environments, plus public swimming pools. I normally try to take a shower right afterward to rinse out the tube, but I haven't always. I remember one time, specifically, a couple years ago when we went camping and tubing in the Smoky Mountains and it was two nights before I took a shower. I'm definitely not encouraging others to do this. I know parents are very nervous about being responsible for their children getting bad germs through the tube. I personally haven't had a problem with it, and this trip was no exception. I went swimming in the saltwater pool, the saltwater hot tub, the chlorinated pool filled with screaming kids, and the chlorinated hot tub. At some point in the future, you can all laugh at me when I get some horrible stomach illness from mutant lake algae.

Betsy and I renewed our wedding vows for the 15th time. Our anniversary isn't until Feb. 2, but we thought we would take the opportunity to get married at Disney World. Initially, we wanted to do it in front of the Chinese Pavilion at Epcot's World Showcase, but we ran out of time on Thursday (it would probably take a week to see everything at Epcot) so Grace had us say our vows on the beach at the Polynesian and then Betsy and I went to Magic Kingdom Thursday night to see the fireworks. You want to know what attracts a lot of attention? A one-armed guy in uniform and his wife wearing her wedding dress posing for pictures in front of the crystal palace at night. Whoa. The photographer had us kiss and the whole crowd erupted in cheers. I'm a little disappointed we couldn't do it in China. I guess now we'll have to go to the REAL China to renew our wedding vows. Maybe Uncle Larry has some money left to spend on those tickets? The Shanghai Disney Resort just opened last year!!! I'm sure that won't be crowded at all.

Happy Anniversary, Babe. Here's to 15 more!

Rest in Peace

A friend from high school died the other day. It hit me hard because he died of metastatic kidney cancer and I didn't even know he had cancer. He was diagnosed more than 3 years ago, and talked about it publicly back in April of this year. I don't check facebook every day, and I missed the post where he talked about his prognosis. I was diagnosed with cancer a couple months after our 10 year high school reunion in 2003, so I e-mailed him and a few other high school friends. He was very supportive, and has been supportive since then as I've dealt with cancer's aftermath. I feel bad because I wasn't there for his health crisis. He posted a picture to facebook on Halloween of him and his family (he was married, with two little girls). I 'Liked' the photo but failed to notice how much weight he'd lost or how he was on oxygen. I get so self absorbed in my own problems that I don't pay enough attention to those around me.

So, I had a drink for Mike Rich tonight.

Mike was a great guy. He was someone I greatly admired. Mike graduated from Stanford Law School and was a law professor at Elon University. Mike had a quick wit and extremely funny, sarcastic sense of humor. He was smart. So much smarter than I was. You see, we went to a public boarding school, the North Carolina School of Science and Math. All the kids there were gifted (not me; I think I avoided getting really bad grades because my brother died while I was there and the teachers took pity on me), but there were some, like Mike, who really stood out. He often hung out in my room, because my roommate was equally smart and we had a fast computer for writing papers and--more importantly--playing computer games. In the evening, when we weren't playing computer games, board games, card games, Dungeons & Dragons, or uh...homework, my friends often debated philosophy, politics, or scientific topics in front of me. I just smiled and nodded, unable to contribute anything meaningful to the conversation, but Mike knew what he was talking about. Recently, Mike often talked to the media in North Carolina, wrote papers or spoke publicly about the intersection between emerging technology and criminal justice. He wrote an OpEd for the NY Times, he was interviewed for an article in Time magazine on the usage of body cams. He was highly respected in the law community. I just watched a lecture he gave on the subject and it is fascinating. If you have any interest in criminal justice, I urge you to look up Michael Rich on Youtube.

Here's his obituary from Elon, which has a short video in which he talks about his work: http://www.elon.edu/e-net/Article/141138

Here's the obituary from his local paper: http://www.greensboro.com/obituaries/rich-michael-lee/article_b6eac05c-1196-575d-934a-59155d420a65.html?mode=jqm

Mike's law students loved him. This is obvious from all the emotional outpourings of grief posted on his facebook page. He took the time to sit down with all his students outside the classroom. Mike discussed their career path with them; he encouraged them; he gave them a shoulder to cry on; he was their friend years after they graduated. He really listened to people. This was all while he was going through his own battle with cancer.

I can't help but contrast his example with my own. While he dealt with cancer quietly, with dignity, rarely letting it overshadow the needs of friends and loved ones, I immediately broadcast my cancer diagnosis. My own public blog about my experiences with the aftermath of cancer treatment seem like a selfish cry for public validation, and I feel even more saddened/chagrined that I was not there for Mike as he was there for me during cancer treatment and at every stage of my subsequent health problems. I didn't take enough time in my day to take an interest at least in the exciting work Mike was doing. To send him a note saying how much I admired him. Mike really made a difference. The world is better because of him.

I only knew Mike for two years more than 20 years ago. The experiences I had with him, the full extent of my knowledge about Mike Rich, is such a tiny portion of who he really was. My picture of him:

He had a brother. Anecdote: Mike told me that he and his brother used to wrestle (as brothers often do). Mike used to grab his brother's legs to present him from climbing the stairs at his home. Panting desperately, his brother would say, "Must! Reach! Top! Save! World!" That story stuck with me, and now whenever my daughter grabs my legs I cry, "Must! Reach! [INSERT DESTINATION]! Save! World!

Mike was excellent at ultimate frisbee (our best player). He was a great basketball player and was often dismayed at my own clumsiness on the court. He was a good Dungeon Master when we played D&D--on an unrelated note, we were virgins. He was smart and funny. He was generous, respectful of everyone's opinion. He was a good listener. He was there for me when my brother died our senior year. He was a good friend.

He was so much more than that though. He was a loving father and husband. He was great at his job. He was looked up to by so many current, and former, students at Elon. He continued teaching for three years, through his cancer fight. I only know those things from what I could glean off his facebook and twitter profiles. Social media is great because without it, I wouldn't know any of that stuff. I probably wouldn't have found out about his death until my next reunion. Social media also serves to remind me of how out of touch I am with my friends. I told another high school friend about Mike's death and noticed that my other friend lived in Illinois. When did that happen? Last I knew, he lived in Atlanta.

I hope in the future I can express to my friends the impact they've had on my life and how much I appreciate them before it's too late.

Rest in Peace, Michael Rich.