Transcriber: Astrid G Reviewer: Michael Nystrom
What are the pieces that make up who we are?
I thought I knew who I was.
I was working. I was hustling, making moves.
And then one year, everything changed and would never be the same.
See, 2020 was quite the year for me, but not how everyone thinks.
I remember it was a Friday morning. I was so excited to get to work.
It was the Friday right before Super Bowl.
And as a morning radio show host,
I knew that that day was going to be all about the laughter.
We were going to have fun.
We were going to listen to Dua Lipa 10 times in a row.
And it was going to be a great day, right?
Well, not so much.
About 30 minutes into the show, I got a phone call from my sister.
My mom, who had been suffering from cancer,
was not doing well.
It was time to come home.
So I left work early, went home,
threw some things in a suitcase, grabbed my husband,
and we went on the first plane to Boston that we could get.
I got to my family home on Cape Cod,
and when I got there, things were not looking good.
My sisters and I, we decided to get hospice for my mom. It was time.
And we decided on in-home hospice because we wanted to be with her.
I didn’t want to leave her somewhere.
And I was the daughter who had to administer the end-of-life drugs.
And with every drop that I put in my mom’s cheek,
I could see my dad’s heart breaking.
At one point,
he pulled me over to the side,
and he said:
“I cannot be the one to tell Mom it’s okay to leave us.
Can you please do that for me?”
And as the dutiful daughter,
that’s what I did.
My mom passed away a couple of days later.
And as sad as that was,
I had to put my grief on hold because now I had to take care of my dad.
See, my dad is very stoic.
He doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve.
And I knew he loved his life on Cape Cod and did not want to pull up roots
and come to Albuquerque to live near me.
And I understood that.
Luckily for me, a pandemic gave me the opportunity to work remotely.
And that’s what I did.
I spent so many weeks with my dad the summer of 2020,
and we did everything that tourists travel miles to do.
We went to the fish pier and had lunch.
We went to the beach and watched the sunset.
My dad finally tried an edible to see if he could get high.
(Laughter)
He wanted to try marijuana. That was... what he wanted.
So I made it happen that summer.
I know he did, too. He liked it. He did it again, too.
(Laughter)
So I was back in Albuquerque after one of our visits.
And the phone rings again.
This time...
my dad was calling from the hospital.
He was losing sight in one eye
from what doctors at the time suspected was a stroke.
So again, I threw all my clothes in a bag,
and I stayed with him for four months
until he passed away on December 30th, 2020,
at the McCarthy Care Hospice, Room Two.
I was devastated.
Glioblastoma.
I had never even heard of this form of cancer -
could not even say it correctly - and now I will remember it forever.
Now, don’t get me wrong,
we spent many days and nights at the hospital,
and we had a lot of laughs.
We had a lot of fun.
My dad, he was a prankster,
and he would make me go to the cafeteria at the hospital
and get him chocolate cake
because he wanted to make videos
to make the family think he was “losing it,”
and he would make the frosting of the chocolate cake
get all over his face.
And I don't know if you remember,
there was a commercial where a little girl had a hot dog,
and she wanted to put some peanut butter on it and try it.
My dad had to try that, too.
So I have a video of that as well.
Those videos I cherish now and watch a lot.
Now, there were many nights in that hospital room where...
I was almost thankful that he could not see me
because at this point,
I was starting to realize that no matter how intelligent
the doctors were at Mass General,
there was nothing they could do.
I didn’t want my dad to see me crying.
My heart was breaking.
And I had never felt so alone.
After my dad passed away,
I stayed on Cape Cod for six weeks by myself.
I needed to sit in his chair.
I needed to smell his cologne.
I needed to live life through his eyes. And that’s what I did.
And God blessed me with a husband who understood
and made absolutely no demands for me to come home.
My dad taught me a lesson many years ago
that in every bad thing that happens,
there is a lesson to be learned, something good that comes from it.
But what good could come from losing both of your parents in one year?
In those six weeks by myself,
I did something I have never done before.
I asked for help.
And it came in the form of a bereavement group
that helped me on some of my darkest days.
I would be lost without this group.
And to this day, I still attend whenever I can.
They taught me and showed me
that I was stronger than I realized.
I was capable.
I was taking care of myself after such a great tragedy.
And...
They gave me the opportunity to finally see that and realize that.
So...
What if it didn't take a great tragedy for us to realize
and see how strong we are and how capable we are?
What if we gave ourselves permission
to acknowledge it and be proud of ourselves?
So here’s what I want everyone to do:
when you get home tonight,
maybe tomorrow when you’re walking around the house,
beating yourself up about something you didn’t do, you didn’t accomplish,
you don't think you did well enough.
Let's take a minute to be proud of what we have accomplished.
And then once we do that, let’s vocalize it
so maybe another person
who’s struggling and feels alone right now doesn’t.
(Applause)