November 7, 2024
I want to tell you how our daughters are such a healing force in my life. There are many examples, but this is just one.
A few days after your funeral, everyone had left—everyone, even Natalie. After over a decade of working and caregiving 80+ hours a week, I suddenly had… nothing. Seeking respite from my brain trying to process losing my job due to a private equity buyout only 10 days after you died, I went to a daytime yoga class at the downtown YMCA—something I’d never been able to do in all the years of caregiving. It felt surreal.
After yoga class, I stepped out into the hallway.
And stopped.
Right there in front of me—covering nearly the entire wall—was a massive bulletin board dedicated to the first Livestrong class at the Y. Four feet tall, maybe six feet wide, filled with yellow shirts and smiling, laughing faces.
My eyes found you first. Then George. Then Laurey. And finally, Jessica, one of the Y trainers.
Where others walking by might have seen cheerful photographs, I was immediately overwhelmed by the stories behind those faces—by lives lost and families grieving.
Jessica’s mother, Yvonne, lived for years with a brain tumor, continuing to ride motorcycles and show up at the YMCA until she began to decline in her final years.
George—founder and fearless leader of WNC Brain Tumor Support—was endlessly funny, relentlessly encouraging, and maddeningly persistent about making sure we all carried out our assigned tasks. Over decades and multiple recurrences, he devoted himself to serving brain tumor patients around the world, always bringing humor and light with him.[¹]
Laurey Masterton, the embodiment of Don’t Postpone Joy, was already more than twenty years into her cancer journey when we met her at that first Livestrong group—a dynamic business owner, champion of farmers and bees, cycling, and joy itself. [²]
And there you were—in a group photo, and then again in an individual picture, pedaling a stationary bike with Jessica at your side.
When I first encountered that billboard in February, it stopped me in my tracks. I felt nailed to the floor as I took it in. Then I snapped and fled to the nearest restroom stall and collapsed into a puddle of snot, tears, and soggy toilet paper.
After pulling myself together, I returned to the hallway, took pictures of the board, and sent them—along with everything I was feeling—to Natalie and Laura.
They both responded immediately.
Natalie replied with a cascade of emojis and thanked me for sending the photos. She said she felt happy seeing how happy you looked in them. Laura also responded with emojis, noting how cool it is that the Y is honoring and remembering the original group after all these years.
I was struck by how different our reactions were—and grateful. Their responses helped me widen the frame of my grief, creating space around what had initially felt unbearable.
I’m back in Asheville now, after the Appalachian Trail, after Hurricane Helene. When I went to the downtown Y, the billboard is still there.
This time, standing in front of it, I could see something different. I could see how genuinely happy you and George and Laurey were in that moment. I know it wasn’t just smile-for-the-camera happy. It was finding joy in this moment of life happy.
I still felt the sadness of the loss—but I also felt the joy of that moment.
Before, the billboard felt like a painful memory to avoid. Now, I feel gratitude that you are all still visible, still remembered.
I recall the effort we all put into fundraising and promoting that first Livestrong program. I feel deep gratitude for the many staff and volunteers who have continued to pour love and energy into keeping Livestrong alive at the YMCA of Western North Carolina, now offered at multiple locations.
Most of all, I love how Laura and Natalie and I share such an authentic emotional connection—how we can support and heal one another in real time.
And I love how you somehow knew, all along, that we were meant to be a family—and traveled more than two thousand miles to find us.
“I’ve been blessed to have these people in my life, and I owe that to George [Plym]. It makes me realize it’s not about how long your life is, it’s about what you do while you’re living it.”
―Mark Bourdeaux member of WNC Brain Tumor Support quoted in Mountain Xpress, May 17, 2016
Footnotes & Remembrances
[¹] George — Founder of WNC Brain Tumor Support. His work and spirit were profiled in Mountain Xpress, among many other places.
https://endeavors.unc.edu/spr2008/brain_cancer.php
[²] Laurey Masterton — Founder of Laurey’s Yum and author of Don’t Postpone Joy. A beloved advocate for farmers, bees, cycling, and living fully. https://www.laureysyum.com/
I Want to Tell You 
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