Lessons in Living, Fighting and Dying Well

When our lives end, the only enduring remains are the imprints left on the lives we touched. This post is intended to honor the memory of an extraordinary joblife architect by sharing a glimpse of the unique imprint left by my dear friend and mentor, John Reddish.

I’ve learned a lot from job and life mentors but nothing can compare to what he taught me – John showed me how to die.

The following is adapted from my eulogy remarks:

In 1998 when John Reddish and I met at a National Speakers Association meeting, little did we know that the future would place us side-by-side in the trenches of the fiercest battle that each of us would ever fight.

Two years later, John fought with me in the trenches of a Federal court battle to protect my intellectual property. It was during that 8 month battle and our quick daily “bulleted” phone updates, that JR became shorthand for John and I was dubbed JM.

Over the next decade, a very strong bond of mutual respect evolved… but had not yet been tested. That test came in April when JR sent me the diagnostic CAT scan report.  As I read and re-read the report, there was no doubt that that he was deep in the trenches and in grave danger.

Some have wondered why I took the role as his healthcare advocate.  It wasn’t because I could or should.  But simply because those who have stood and fought side by side in the trenches know the importance of keeping a constant eye out for each other.

So over the next 8 months, JR graciously allowed his dear friend Bill Sawyer and me to share the trenches of chemotherapy with him:

The first 6 outpatient rounds would have knocked most to their knees but IF he didn’t tell you or you didn’t see his hair or weight loss… you would have no idea that he was battling cancer.  He NEVER LET ON and he NEVER SLOWED DOWN.

• During the chemo sessions he would tell me of how touched he was by emails, cards or calls he received. If you are one who expressed shock upon learning that he had passed or disappointment that you didn’t reach out enough…please don’t dismay – shielding you was his way.
• During the longest of outpatient chemo sessions he would often say, “its not my time, JM – I still have too much to do. One time when the Benadryl made him a bit woozy, he slipped and said he still had too much to give. To “give” rather then “do” was more accurate but not something he would normally say – it would be too much like bragging to him. But one only needs to read his FaceBook page to see how much he gave and many lives he touched. He was just getting started.
• When the nurses fawned over the picnic baskets of gourmet goodies that we noshed throughout the chemo days, he would puff up a bit and say, “I have great friends” – referring to all of his friends – I heard him say it often.  The only time I ever saw John display pride was when showing a photo of his 3 beautiful grandsons or when speaking of his friends – they meant the world to him.

In August, when the lymphoma spread and was now at stage 4, we to MOVED from the TRENCHES of OUTPATIENT chemo to the FRONT LINES of HOSPITALIZATION  – it was the difference between 3-8 hours and 3–6 days of continuous chemo infusion!

During this time (between tweet chats no less) John would tell the medical staff that he was fine and felt great…but the films and labs clearly showed otherwise. The doctors, Bill and I shook our heads – in retrospect, he was just demonstrating the best business practice of staying focused on the GOAL (of beating the odds) not on the OBSTACLES. What a wise man.

By then, my job as medical advocate had morphed into wingman and all around “mother bear”.  So when I asked the tough questions that JR expected me to ask, he said, “it doesn’t matter if they tell me that I will die tomorrow, I won’t give up.”

In early November – when the labs showed me that his body was defying his spirit, he never showed fear, never let on and never, ever complained.  How is that possible when you’re dying?  But he didn’t.  From the darkest and most trying of times in the trenches, JR never gave up even as his body gave out.

In the end, we both lost our battles, but STANDING AND FIGHTING alongside JR was an extraordinary honor and education. You see, I got to watch a man LIVE the meaning of the saying…”never say die”.

John Reddish was an icon of how to live, fight and die with wisdom, verve and dignity.

He taught me as much in death as in life.