This is the final chapter of Tammi’s Caring Bridge story. I’d love to say that Tammi’s story had a happy ending, but unfortunately it did not. Please bear with me as this is undoubtedly the hardest thing I will ever have to write, but Tammi wanted me to write another entry into her story. She was too weak to do it herself. I am keeping my promise to her and in no way can I write as eloquently as she did but I will do my best in honor of her. This Caring Bridge site was so important to her and it was very therapeutic for her to write these journals. My brother printed off all of her entries and gave it to me and as I sat down to read each and every entry in order I was quite simply in awe. You see, when she was diagnosed with cancer in April of 2018 our doctor described it as a journey, and to Tammi, it was. These entries are her journey, and it is my job to write the final one.
Tammi passed away on November 29, 2020 in the same way that she lived, gracefully and peacefully. She entered hospice care around the beginning of November. She was tired of the chemo treatments and the pain that it caused her. She knew- and she was not afraid, that her days on earth were numbered. We were hoping for 9 months? 6 months? But whatever time she had she wanted to enjoy it chemo free. She had a scan early in November and our worst fears were realized. The cancer had grown significantly in her liver and Dr. Tan, our doctor at Siteman, sadly stated that there was nothing more they could do. It was touching to Tammi that there were tears shed as he told her. Tammi was in the hospital at the time, so when she was released the next day it was a quiet ride home.
Not a sad ride, but rather a reflective ride. She looked out the window and seemed to be in a quiet trance. When we got home we talked. And talked. About real stuff. About hard stuff. Stuff most people would feel very uncomfortable talking about. All throughout this ordeal we would always say to each other, “We are going to take it one day at a time and build good things into our lives each and every day,” followed by “ We’ll cross one bridge at a time, and when we cross that bridge, we will enjoy the ride until it’s time to cross the next bridge.” We lived by these two mantras and said it to each other many many times.
Tammi was not afraid. She told me, “I’m not afraid of dying, I just don’t want to go yet.” She wanted to see Emma walk down the aisle, she wanted to share coffee with her friends on the deck, she wanted to spend time with me, her mom, her kids. You see, Tammi loved life, and she loved sharing it with people. She was such a people person! One of the final “events” that she loved was inviting a few close friends over for a fire pit in the driveway. That day she cherished so much, as she was with people she loved and cared about. Of course, just about anybody could have been there, and she would have the same feeling about each and every one who showed up. That’s just who she was.
Two weeks before she passed, a dear friend organized a “walking parade” where people passed by and waved to Tammi and to say hi! The Covid pandemic has made it very hard for people to get together, and it was hard for Tammi. We were shocked when over 200 people walked by the house, waving and giving air hugs to her. She loved it! She could not wipe the smile off of her face. It meant so much her!
Unfortunately the last two weeks of her life cancer reared it’s ugly head. We had the blessing of having our hospice nurse being our next door neighbor Lisa. They have been our neighbors for 17 years and Lisa offers her services for Tammi as a gift to us. Talk about a gift! I had conversations with Lisa about how much time Tammi had - first I was hoping spring, then hoping Christmas, but as each day passed it looked bleaker and bleaker. I’ll spare the details of the final weeks but during that entire time Tammi battled and never once complained. As I stated before, she passed the way she lived- gracefully and peacefully.
The outpouring of the community- I cannot put it into words. Tammi has impacted the lives of so many teachers, students, administrators, just about everybody she came into contact with. She just had that impact. My brother Bob talked about Tammi’s legacy. Her legacy will live on in all of us. How can it not?
I’m sad. I’m really really sad. I wanted more time with her. We had so many things we were going to do. And yet, I’m not sad. I got to spend 18 years with the kindest, most caring, most wonderful woman on earth. As Lou Gehrig said I’m the luckiest man on the face of the earth. All the things that those who knew her love and cherish, I got to experience that and then some, each and every day. I will miss her terribly and I don’t know what tomorrow brings, but I do know this. The best way I can honor her is to live my life with kindness and compassion the way she did each and every day of her life.
Thank you to all the people who have read these posts and shared in Tammi’s journey. Thank you to the community of Chatham for the outpouring of love and support. Thank you to all the teachers and administrators who worked with Tammi. Thank you to all who sent letters, cards, and gifts you have showered Tammi with the past 2 1/2 years. Most of all, thank you for caring. Cancer is a journey that no one should have to go through. Get that colonoscopy. This is the final chapter of Tammi’s Caring Bridge, but it also the beginning of her legacy. Let us live with kindness and compassion as she did.
“In a world where you can be anything, be kind.”
