It's Really 8:16, Lloyd

Do you remember TigerBlog's friend Pattie Friend? 

She was the woman whom TB met in the Nassau Diner back in March. Her husband Lloyd was a member of the Class of 1965, and she had just moved back to Princeton from North Jersey. 

As it turns out, Mrs. Friend is about the biggest Princeton Athletics fan TB has ever seen. Here's a list of sports that she's attended in just the time since they've met: men's lacrosse, women's lacrosse, softball, baseball, women's tennis, men's tennis, women's rugby, football, men's soccer, women's soccer, field hockey, men's volleyball, women's volleyball and men's water polo. Did he miss any? 

Actually you can add men's basketball, which she attended last night. She has season tickets for the women and men. And TB is sure that she'll be going to way more winter events. 

Can anyone else match that number of sports seen? 

Lloyd passed away in 2008, but Pattie has continued to be active in the Reunion activities of his class. She also has remained great friends with many of the members of the 1964 football team, and she was able to spend time with them Saturday, when they were back to be honored at the football game. 

Her last name certainly suits her. She makes Friends everywhere she goes.  

After TB wrote yesterday about the end of Daylight Savings Time, he heard from his friend Mrs. Friend about how she'd always say the same thing to him when the clocks changed, something like: "It's 7:16, but it's really 8:16." Every year. Every time.

She laughed as she said it. TB could hear a little more in her voice, though. It was a great memory for her, which made her laugh, and yet it was also a reminder that her husband is no longer here.

Lloyd did not pass away from cancer, but Pattie's way of remembering him reminded TB of the messages he received after his story last week on the women's soccer players who have been impacted by the disease.

You can read it HERE if you have not already done so.

The response to the story that TB received was overwhelming. In fact, he's pretty sure that no other story he's written has gotten him this much feedback.

It was a series of emails or texts of people who all had similar stories to tell, of their own experiences in dealing with someone close to them whom they lost or who fought their way through it or both.

TB wanted to share some of what he heard, both because of the raw emotions of those who wrote to him and also because of how much it was helpful to all of those out there who have been in this position. TB will leave out names and specifics, though he will say that not everyone who reached out to him was someone he knew.

There was this:

Finding it hard to type this. I read your story while sitting next to my brother, in his hospital bed, as we await more test results. He is battling lung cancer and things are not going well. He fell the other day, and now we’re worried he may have broken bones on top of everything else. He is suffering. I’m not sure how long he has left. Like you, I lost a parent at 55. My dad died of lung cancer. He didn’t see me get married, or never met my two daughters. I miss his sage advice to this day. Cancer truly sucks. Your piece was powerful. Thank you for writing it. 

That was the basic tone of the messages. There was this too:

I lost one of my childhood best friends to metastatic breast cancer in the summer of 2012. Her daughter, had just turned 16, and her son, a basketball player, was heading off to his first year as a college student-athlete. She would have been 59 this past Saturday and her daughter, now 28, living on her own in Brooklyn, decided she wanted to spend the day with me, so we were sitting at the men's soccer game together thinking about all that had happened since that awful summer; we laughed and cried. It was good. 

And, quite succinctly, there was this one:

My eyes are a little glassy at the moment. I lost my best friend from high school 3.5 years ago to pancreatic cancer. Sadly, yes, we can all relate. 

There were others. Lots of them.

Thank you to everyone who took the time to reach out. TB is sorry for all of your losses and struggles. 

As the last one said, yes, everyone can relate. 

If you're struggling, just remember what Summer Pierson's yellow bracelet says: "No one fights alone."