Greetings!
I am thrilled to tell you my PET scan revealed I’m in remission, y’all! Thank
you for your support!
As
many of you know, Shannan and I are fans of Sister Hazel. The band’s concerts
are always audience centered and family friendly. At the Hazel Hang we attended
in June, a woman was on the front row with two elementary aged kids. Ken Block,
the lead singer, pulled one of the little guys up on stage. Shell shock set in
on the boy. He stood next to Ken frozen as if blinded by the stage lights. Ken
was patient and kind with the youngster. After a couple of minutes, the boy
happily returned to his mom and brother.
Jett
Beres, the bassist, was stationed on the same side as the family. He, too,
brought the boy on stage. Still, the child was hesitant to be the center of
attention. At one point, the young fellow raised one arm in the air. His hand
balled in a fist as if to say power. That brought a cheer from the audience.
The boy stood there, fist held high. I looked around the room and noticed adults
raising their hand with him in unity. I couldn’t help but to pump my fist up
high. Not everyone joined in, but a great many did. Women, men, young and old,
some singing, dancing, drinking, and others solemnly holding up an arm in
solidarity with an unknown kid. The moment didn’t last long, but for me, it
marked the very sense of belonging that brings people to concerts.
Last
July, in person and on social media, I raised my arm, not in power, but in a
request for support. You, oh so many of you, quickly and repeatedly pumped your
fist with mine. You said yes to me, and no to cancer. Throughout my treatment,
particularly in the tough times, I would raise my fist in the air. I knew I was
not alone. It was that sense of friendship, love and unity you gave to me that
made all the difference. Please know that in the everyday and the hardships, I
stand, arm raised with you.
Tom
