You captured our hearts buddy

I lost my dear friend this weekend.

Zach passed away quietly and peacefully Sunday morning.

And I am changed...yet again...in a way that is shades different than the person that I was even when Zach first stepped into my life and into my heart.

Just two weeks ago Zach's mom called me to tell me that Zach would be up at the hospital again that following day. I had a doctor's appointment and knew I might cut it close swinging by the other side of town...but felt compelled to chance it. As it would happen, this would be the day that with the help of his Mom and Dad, Zach told me he would be going to the hospice. For this fierce, determined young man who fought for so long...it might appear that this was giving in...accepting that the fight was over. But this was not the case.

He was taking control and bravely deciding how his final chapter would play out. There in that room, sitting by his bed I was feeling weak, crestfallen at hearing this news. But I couldn't show it...not when Zach was resolute. When you see strength like that...you just don't want to be the one to crack...I was just trying to follow his lead. As hard as it was to hear this...the finality of it--- Zach was facing this with the bright side immediately ready to share with me. He could "have visitors there...he could watch his videos...bring his favorite things...hang the "Lance bike" in his room."

After all, as Zach had reminded me on countless occasions his blood type was just right for him--- B positive...and that was what he had to do---be positive. It's one of many things I'm remembering now...things he said and little inside jokes...simple things he enjoyed that the rest of the world takes for granted. Like Triscuits...who lives to taste a Triscuit cracker?...Zach did and I'll never go by a box of them without smiling and thinking of him.

Zach had a sneak peak at several little goofs I made. Anyone who knows me any length of time catches on to my scatterbrained nature. I've been trying to correct it...but alas it's just here to stay. But what was so good about Zach was his ability to sweetly point the goofs out...but not broadcast them. I told him once jokingly that I only did that to make him laugh. Well, he knew the truth...

While I was driving him somewhere once I realized to my frustration that the shifter was stuck.

"Oh man! So much for this new car," I said haphazardly jerking the handle back and forth.

Without missing a beat Zach lifted a quarter out that had rolled into the shift track, thus immobilizing the shift. "Here...try it now," he said smiling. Then we both laughed...and there was no judgement. He could have thought to himself, 'geesh, this dippo---Aha, somebody's got it worse than me', but if he did he never let on. Zach lived in the moment.

Though that might have made a great story to add to his storytelling creds he never retold it for a cheap laugh. It was our little inside joke.

What I'll remember forever about Zach is that he shared his whole heart with you. From the first day I sat with him and Michael in the lobby of the 5500 floor lobby next to the candy machines...to that last visit and that very last hug, the one that would be goodbye, he didn't hide his gratitude. "Thank you" was a word that passed his lips often and without trepidation.

And as we all prepare to say goodbye this week I am thinking of one moment that sums up Zach and his determination to face the most unbearably difficult trials of his life with positivity.

The afternoon after Zach had been awarded the Lance signed bike at his local bike shop the small little group that had gathered to see him get it dispersed. I too headed out the door. But he called after me just as I passed the threshold...he ran up and stopped me. As I turned around to face him, he looked at me with a look of contentment. "Hey...do you ever sometimes think that cancer was the best thing that ever happened to you?"

Knowing the absolute sincerity with which he uttered that statement...no self pity, no desire for accolades about how brave he was...I felt a pang of truth. But it didn't settle easy. I wanted to agree without reservation...but I felt how painful and layered some heartfelt truths can be. Despite the fact that his storm had never truly subsided...and there hadn't ever been a reprive...a remission...an enticing promise of a future. Despite the fact that he struggled, he felt it made him stronger. He felt he was learning as he endured each part of the journey...his faith was no small part of that. And he also was grateful for the people that were brought into his life...people he once said he may not have ever had the honor to cross paths with in different cicrcumstances.
"The best thing?" I thought, and it hurt to even contemplate, looking at where the road was leading for him... but I knew he meant every word...that much was clear.

I nodded through tears and it almost stung to agree, looking at him in a moment I knew I would always remember for the rest of my life."Yes, Zach...sometimes I do"

So one night later when Sean Swarner, the mountain climber who'd shared friendship and his posh hotel room with Zach, echoed those very same words about his own experience----there were at least two audience members in absolute awe.
That keynote speech struck a chord. Zach turned toward me with an ear to ear smile of jubuliant recognition and gave me a wink.

I will always remember Zach DeRidder. He is alive in my heart.

I hope as you read this you'll keep him in yours.

Miss you Z-Man.

Zachary T. DeRidder July 30, 1984--January 18, 2009

My definition of a hero

Those of you faithful readers of my blog know about Zach DeRidder.
One year ago I met Zach and his best friend Michael in a hospital waiting area "by the candy machines" as Zach likes to say...and well, my life has never been the same since.

Zach's struggle with liver cancer since diagnosis in January 2006 has been three years of uncertainty. His survival is a testament to his absolute determination to never give up.
Unforunately, Zach's journey has taken yet another frightening turn. Very late this past Sunday night Zach was rushed to the hospital with a very low body temperature and blood pressure. He was admitted to ICU at once. Just hours later I received the call from his mom and that night I went to the hospital to see him. Michael and his wife Alice sped two hours from their home in Corning to come be with Zach.

I walked cautiously and nervously into the room. I was really afraid of what I might see.
Zach, a devout Mormon who truly is led by his faith, was surrounded bedside by members of his church. Zach was ready with a bright smile and he gave me a joyous greeting immediately flooding me with relief. With this guy's air of positvity it's absolutely impossible to feel doom and gloom.

Zach's pastor blessed him before he was wheeled off for a procedure. While we waited for Zach to get out of surgery Michael, Alice and I shared dinner in the hospital cafeteria and reminisced about all that had happened since Zach, Michael and I were first introduced that October afternoon last year by the candy machines. We were in awe of how good it was and how reassuring it felt to see Zach smiling and his bubbly self in spite of all that he is enduring.

I wanted to share with you what I have learned from my courageous friend... the young man that by all accounts before his illness was an athlete, a hard worker and a generous and unfailingly giving human being. Except for his health, none of that has changed.

When he got out of surgery I watched Zach ask his doctor matter of factly and simply "what do I have to do to get home for Christmas?" He reminded him several times that his sister was performing in the Nutcracker this weekend...and he wanted to see her dance. There were no promises of his release and Zach nodded with reluctant acknowledgement. This is serious. Serious enough to come between Zach and his plans.

The picture above shows Zach proudly holding a signed copy of Keep Climbing, a book that was overnighted to me by Sean Swarner, who Zach befriended when Sean was here in October. Zach has this book and Lance Armstrong's book "It's not About the Bike" by his bedside. These books and Scripture are his textbooks, which he highlights and pours over like textbooks. He is treating this like any challenge he's faced before, soaking up inspiration and learning all he can about how to give it everything he's got.

Zach's method is really quite inspiring. He is very conciously lining up those heroes in his life, those who have done it before, beat the odds and shared with others. This is what Zach hopes he can do as well. But he has already touched so many. He is only accutely aware of the impact he has had on people around the country and around the world. When his story was broadcast over the internet for all to see and he won the LiveSTRONG contest...he had not even seen the video. You can not get more humble or pure than that. His friends Tim and Michael had rushed to create not one, but two videos, one of which garnered him entrance as a finalist to the contest.

Since winning that contest and that signed bike from Lance so many hearts have been lifted by the Z-Man. I think when we look at what we have facing us, the frustrations or the challenges in our own lives, we have to just for a moment think of Zach. It's hard to argue our excuses for bad attitudes when we take on his example. Through the hardships and obstacles he looks at life like a great party. Even the hospital is a joyous and happy place because Zach is in Room 6. You see it in the smiles of all who enter his room. This guy doesn't back down and he doesn't give in. Attitude is everything...and he has it. No matter what the future holds for him he's told me himself that he is going to enjoy what he has.

I keep thinking of that moment more than a month ago when I realized fully how this guy really lives. He was not supposed to actively participate in indoor rock climbing with us. Can you imagine that being in the doctor's orders for someone in his condition? He'd made me think he'd hang below with me ( because I'm really chicken about heights) while rooting others on. That gave me my excuse to cherish the role of cheerleader...hold someone's clipboard and watch from the safety of the floor below.

I have to forgive Zach now for his dishonesty...but I think he knew all along he couldn't resist. Before I knew it he was signing the consent form and was harnessed...to my absolute panic. Perhaps somewhere deep inside he was thinking he had to grab this chance. I urged him not to and expressed my fears for his well-being. In his condition the concern was more than justified it was absolutely warranted.
But he turned to me and looked me straight in the eye and said "Leah, you've gotta live like you're dying". It scared the crap out of me...I wanted to stop his crazy talk...and turn around but he did it. He climbed to the very top of the wall and came down skillfully. He proved me so very wrong and brought everyone there in Rock Ventures who witnessed it to tears. And yes, my excuse was gone...I climbed too.

He scaled to the top...and he didn't look back at the decision with any regret. He was triumphant in utter exhaustion. He smiled as wide as I'd ever seen. Really this was just another day in the life of Zach DeRidder. But a day in my life that I will never, ever forget.

Is it possible that an amazing attitude toward life like this can help us face anything?
If you're betting against that...you haven't met Zach.

http://www.zhope.org/

What do Everest climbers eat when visiting Rochester

Sean Swarner came to speak for Melissa's Living Legacy's annual benefit, supporting Teens Living with cancer...the website I am currently working on web content for. One of many projects.

Not for anything, but what a fun weekend. Sean is a delight and if you want to book him to speak for you take my word for it, he's a package deal...entertainment included.

Here he is sharing his nutrition knowledge with none other than Matthew Zachary, founder of I'm Too Young For This, who flew in from San Fran (where he was shamelessly networking at yet another conference) to attend. We told Sean that garbage plates were like the Rocky Mountain oyster equivalant of Rochester cuisine...he bought it...and so then decided he was game. He ate the ENTIRE garbage plate.
I have to give him real props for that.

And if you don't think this proves that he is an Ironman he then decided to give a speech just hours after this. And I was in the audience he managed to keep the stomach churning and gurgling really low on the white noise meter.

EDITORS NOTE:
Subsequently, Sean is no longer planning the adventure grand slam...he is in bed with a bottle of Maalox, thinking to himself...gee, that God forsaken place where they frequent eat mushed picnic food on a platter for fun....I survived cancer...twice...survived the Seven Summits and the Ironman with one fully functioning lung and now---done in by this. All homage to Nick Tahoe