In memory of Scott Guffey

This may be hard for some to read, you won't hurt my feelings if you don't. I wanted to document my thoughts and feelings, as well as moments I witnessed during this last week.

My family has been blessed for many years, in the way that we've suffered very few pre-mature deaths. Believe me, I count those blessings daily... my great-grandma lived well into her 90's, grandpa had a massive heart attack two days before his 71st birthday, and both grandmothers are thankfully still living. Maybe that's why I'm not really sure how I feel right now. I'm not even sure how I should feel.

As many of you know, we lost my cousin, Scott Guffey, after a relatively short battle with Leukemia. He was 35.

Love birds, Scott & Kris Guffey, May 2011

Less than six months after his diagnosis, we found ourselves celebrating his life, along with hundreds of  people we'd never before met, but whom loved him. In the time he had, he was able to affect the lives of so many. He became, not only a rock star daddy to his three girls, Alley, Natalie & Jaleigh and devoted husband to Kris, but a safe place for anyone who needed advice, friendship or just some good ol' tough love.

He was one of the healthiest, strongest and virile men you'd ever know. He was a hard-worker, a strong leader and lived life to its fullest, his way... usually involving as much adrenaline as possible. He drove way too fast, drank too much, and was constantly in a state of motion. Yet he never missed a chance to enjoy his friends and family, making it his goal to live life without regrets.

Gray Family Reunion in October, 2012. Alley, Kris, Scott, Jaleigh, Natalie, Shannon, Garret & Matt.

He raised his girls to be strong, independent young ladies, and I know they'll be alright. Sure, they'll make their own rules for many things, but they'll figure out their way in life just as Scott and Kris did.

Attending his funeral yesterday, I witnessed incredible maturity, emotional strength and love for their daddy in their dry eyes, sure actions and words. I can tell you that many adults in the room were able to remain strong because they were. Scott wouldn't have wanted tears, but laughter at his funeral. They were amazing, and I know he's very proud.

So why am I confused? Why do I find myself snapping at Todd and getting so irritated with my own kids?

I think it's because, after all is said and done, I didn't really know him... not really. For many years, I wouldn't have been able to pick him out of a line-up, and it makes me angry. I lived ten minutes from him, and yet, there was no foundation laid during our childhoods to build a friendship on. I lived my life, and he lived his.

As these things tend to happen, years ago, adults in our families made choices. Choices that put us children on different life paths. So despite spending the early years of our lives actually being playmates and learning about life together, we wouldn't really meet again until we had kids of our own. Sure, there were those random family gatherings, when we'd see each other and be cordial, but it was more like we were just polite strangers. Eventually, he stopped coming to family functions, and we stopped calling. We become strangers.

It wasn't until about 5 years ago, during an indoor soccer game at a gym in Mooresville that our paths would cross again. I was bringing Jocey to the bathroom while Zander played, and a very large, 6' 3", very red, very sweaty man holding a basket ball walked up to me and said hello. I must have had a strange look on my face, because he said, "It's me Scott."

I was stunned. "Bubba?"

Wow, Scott got old. Wait... we got old.

Scott was there with his girls & Kris, watching Jaleigh play in her own soccer game. I sat with them and made small talk for awhile. I felt awkward, like I was intruding on their space, like I was someone that they would try to avoid. Which, knowing what I know now about Scott, is ridiculous. He was the kind of guy who wanted to make everyone feel good and welcome. I know whatever weird feelings I had that day were from my own inner crazy. I had told myself for years, that they didn't really want to be part of our family, that we weren't good enough for them. I don't know why I thought this, considering that I never once reached out to call him and Shannon. I was an adult, but I was still expecting the real adults around me to determine my relationships and arrangements.

I'm so very grateful that over the last five years, we would see each other at least once or twice a year at a family get-together. Family gatherings were never boring... Christmas dinners almost always involved wrestling matches, mixed drinks, sweat and laughter. Summer functions would involve RTV's, water balloons and a hose. But this is where my account of his life stops. He was my first cousin, and I didn't really know him. 

All the cousins. Back row: Alex, Elizabeth, Shannon, Tara, Scott
Front row: Summer Joy, Melissa, Sasha, Kyndra & Max

How can you mourn the loss of someone you don't really know?

It provides you with a reality check... a wake-up call, that any day could be your last.

I wish for more time.

I wish I didn't have regrets.

I wish I was stronger... a better mother, friend, sister, daughter, person.

Scott's battle with Leukemia

When we first learned that he had an aggressive form of Leukemia, and was undergoing chemotherapy, I was lucky enough to get to visit him in the hospital. Again, I felt awkward, like I wasn't worthy of taking his valuable time. Like I was intruding on his family. Like I didn't belong there. But he greeted me with a smile, and a warm hug. (I learned in the last few days, he didn't really like to touch people, so I'm even more grateful) He made me feel welcome, and that he appreciated me stopping in to see him. He didn't have to do that. He was the one with cancer... it was just who he was.

His first round of chemo didn't rid his body of the cancer, so he would have to stay there, in isolation and undergo something called super-chemo. Which did force the cancer into remission, but it almost killed him. I don't remember all the details at this point, but I know he had to be placed in a coma for about two weeks, and then later have heart surgery to repair the damage the chemo had caused. He was placed on the bone marrow transplant list. So they waited.

He was able to go home again and regain some of his strength, but all too soon, the cancer would come back. I hear that the doctors told him he wouldn't have much longer to live, a year at most... After receiving that devastating news, he would get a phone call just hours later, that a match had been found. So, they would do chemo again, and then he would have a chance at life.

However, this time, the chemo didn't work. He couldn't get a bone marrow transplant until the cancer went back into remission. He was determined to go down fighting, so they opted for a medical trial.

I woke up Sunday morning and looked at my cell phone. There were about 20 text messages from my aunts and sister. They were batched by person, so I didn't understand any of them, but one.

"They coded Scott..."

I called my Aunt and she told me what was going on. I asked her what exactly "coded" meant. She said he had died. They worked on him for 20 minutes to bring him back.

I'm not proud of this... but I spent the rest of the day in tears between panic attacks. I don't know if it was the fact that it was really happening, if it was that he had died, if I was feeling sorry for myself, if I was worried about his girls, or if he was a Believer or not. As a Christian woman, this is the biggest thing that weighs on my heart. I just have to pray that such a great man, who did so much good in the world would be welcomed into arms of a loving Father.

As mothers often do, mine knew the best way to help me, was to bring me to the hospital to see things for myself. We went and sat with his wife, Kris, his mother, Corkey (Trevelyn), his sister, Shannon, his dad, Jeff, and his brother-in-law Matt.

If they were holding it together, then what right did I have to fall apart? Although I couldn't actaully see Scott, I felt comforted by the fact that his loved ones were right there... waiting, watching, hoping. 

At 3:30am the next morning, my phone rang. Mom tells me the doctor asked the family to come in to say their good-byes. By 3:55am, I was pulling into the parking garage right next to my mom on one side, and my sister on the other. We walked into the ICU together. Aunt Tonya greeted us with hugs and brought us up to date on his state. Kris, was sitting at his bedside holding him and family wept silently in the dark hallway outside his little room. There was a window, large enough that you could see in to from the hallway. His eyes were closed, and he was bundled up like a newborn baby. 

Scott would pass away at 11:30 that morning. His body just couldn't take any more punishment. His spirit will live on through all the people he touched, and in the hearts and minds of his girls.

I pray that I can allow myself to live life as he did. Without any regrets, with complete confidence in myself and compassion for others. I hope one day I can say that I too and #GuffeyStrong

Balloon release at Scott's funeral. Each one written with a message for him.

Gray Family Reunion, October, 2012

In typical Guffey-fashion, he and his family asks you to sign-up to be a bone marrow donor. You could be a match for someone's daddy, someone's brother, someone's son... http://marrow.org/HomeOld.aspx It just takes 10-15 minutes to complete the online registration form. They'll mail you a kit to swab the inside of your cheek and send back to them.

If you're unable to register, please consider making a donation. You could save a life and give someone a chance.