A Tribute to My Friend Amy -- Cancer, Shtick This! part 2

In June of 2017 I wrote a post on here saying that I'd like to punch cancer in the face if it had a face. Now, I'd like to do much worse than that because it claimed my best friend Amy recently, and I know far too many other people who are either battling the disease right now or who have lost that battle. Amy died on September 7th, and I was given the honor of giving her eulogy at her vigil service this month. I almost turned down that honor because I didn't think I would be able to do it without full out bawling, but I couldn't let Amy leave without a proper good-bye, and, surprisingly, I made it through with only a few pauses to collect myself and just a few tears -- the same could not be said for the congregation.

I want to share that eulogy, along with things I ad-libbed while giving it, as a way to memorialize Amy and to allow those in attendance at that service, and those who were unable to attend, to read what I said and share a laugh and some tears in fond memory of Amy Marie (Vojtech) Beran.

First of all, this lovely photo of her that was used for her obituary (which I'll paste to the very end of this post) and on the programs at the vigil service and the funeral:

Isn't she beautiful? The thing about Amy is that her beauty radiated out from her very soul. She was a truly beautiful person. I honestly cannot say that about too many people. Sorry, but I just can't. Amy was a rare exception, and I was so lucky to have her for a friend.

Now, for my eulogy. I'm going to italicize things I added as I spoke and other things that happened-- at least to the best of my memory.

Amy’s Eulogy

First of all, a warning -- there will be tears. Bear with me.

If you can see this, I’ve brought with me a photo of Amy and me taken on February 24, 1987, a few months after she and I first met and became lifelong friends. I’ve kept this particular photo in this frame in a place of honor in my home ever since because it epitomizes Amy’s and my friendship. (If you're laughing at the photo frame, you're not alone because the whole congregation got a chuckle out of this antiquated thing.)

Amy was the yang to my yin, the light to my dark. We completed each other as far as friendships go, but it was largely due to our great differences along with a few strong similarities that forged us into a complete circle of her lightness and my darkness for you cannot have one without the other. If you look at this photo, and you are certainly welcome to see it later (or view it on the poster her sister made), you will see that even then, back when she and I were a mere 18 years old, she was the one full of light and positivity while I was the one with the dark side. She’s even wearing white sunglasses while I’m sporting black ones. Her clothing is lighter in shade than mine, and she’s demurely covering everything while I’m flaunting a bare shoulder. In her eyes glimmer that warmth that was so characteristic of everything Amy, and in my eyes, well, there’s a noticeable amount of mischief coming through.Sweetness and light (I gestured to Amy in her casket), sarcasm and a dark side (I gestured to myself).

Why she ever wanted to be my friend is beyond me, but I thank God she did because she made the past 32 years of my life so much richer than they would have been without her. I’m pretty sure I speak for everyone here when I say that we are better people for having known her.

(Three of the photos on the right side of this poster have me in them -- the very top one, the bottom one, and the third one down, which is the one I mention above in the eulogy -- and seeing them on this poster nearly brought me to my knees with grief and surprise. How fitting that they each are featured in my eulogy, yet her sister didn't even know what I was going to be saying when she made this poster.)

Amy was the most loyal and devoted person I’ve ever known. Whether to her family, her friends or her church, Amy could always, always, be counted on to be there. And even when I knew she had better things to do, she always made time for my visits and never made me feel like I was ever a burden to her. One time when she still lived here in Omaha, I was at the airport with my young daughter awaiting our flight to New York where we were to connect for a flight to Italy. The stupid airline cancelled our flight and got us on a different one in the morning, so I called Amy, and she dropped everything to come get us. We stayed at her house, and once again I kicked Nathan out of his Miami Dolphin-themed bedroom. Over the years, poor Nate gave up his room a lot for me.

My favorite things about Amy were her positivity and her laugh. It was a beautiful, warm, melodious laugh. I think she liked to be around me because I could always make her laugh, and she enjoyed laughing. I dabbled in stand-up comedy for a while, and Amy came to watch me a few times. One of those times was in Fremont, and I still remember that I could hear her laugh above the other people in attendance -- sometimes she was the only one laughing. . . She was a good friend. She always called me Tam, and I will really miss hearing her say "Hey, Tam." Very few people call me that. My name is Tammy, but those close to me call me Tam sometimes. Amy always did, and I really liked it. I’d like to believe that I was a good friend to her, as well.

Amy and I both got married the same summer. Hers lasted; mine didn’t, but my father still remembers her singing at my wedding and how she had "the voice of an angel." Yes, she did, and a few days ago I shared a couple of clips from my wedding video on my Facebook page, so others could hear her amazing voice. Zach listened to it and remarked that he'd never heard his mother sing like that before, so I'm glad I still had my wedding video for that reason alone. My brother, who was in high school at the time and quite inexperienced with the ladies, told me that he remembers dancing with Amy at my wedding dance, and he said, "I held her pretty close. I know I enjoyed it, but I don't know if she did." Sorry, Steve.

Amy and I became first time mothers only a few short months apart. We each have two children -- she, the two boys, and me a boy and a girl. Our children got to spend a lot of time together because I would visit her with them, or she and Steve and the boys would come to Neligh, where I live, to see us. Many of my fondest memories of Amy involve the four of them coming to Neligh for the 4th of July. It became our tradition, and I miss those days very much. There are people in Neligh who got to know her and Steve and the boys through their yearly 4th of July visits, and when they learned that Amy had passed away many of them expressed great sorrow at her loss. Even in Neligh, a town where she never lived or worked, Amy was known for her sweetness, and she is missed.

Amy really enjoyed being a Mary Kay consultant. This day, September 13th, is the anniversary of the day Mary Kay first started her business. I became a consultant myself many years ago to help out Amy. Amy never really needed my help, though, because her nature made her very successful with her business. She epitomized the optimism and positivism that are cornerstones of Mary Kay. I would hear her speaking to customers, and her warmth and energy always came through her voice and her face while she visited with them whether it was on the phone or in person. I never built up my business the way Amy did, but I will continue to do it because it is a daily reminder of Amy and her passion for the business and for helping others.

The last time I actually saw Amy was for her 50th birthday when her family arranged a surprise party for her here in Omaha. Ironically, today is my 50th birthday. While I very much would have loved to see her for it, this was not the way I had imagined it. However, there is nothing I would rather be doing than giving tribute to my dear friend, and Amy spent many other of my birthdays with me. One time we went book shopping, and I bought a big travel book. Amy loved to travel and she really cherished the trips she took with her boys and Steve, and then she would make great photo books to show people. She loved looking at the photos of my trips on Facebook or my blog, and I sent her photos of neat places I saw in New York and San Francisco to brighten her days when she was ill. Our love of new sights was something she and I shared, and we enjoyed showing each other photos of places we’d seen. On another birthday, we went to the Funny Bone because I like comedy. I remember that the comedian that evening picked on us mercilessly because we sat in the front row, but Amy took it all in stride, and she laughed and laughed. When Amy and I were new moms, I visited her and Steve and little Zach and Nate when they lived in Kansas, and we went to the Kansas City zoo on my birthday that year. She and I loved showing our little boys the different animals. She loved being a mom so very, very much. So, while I initially hated the idea that I’d be saying good-bye to my dear friend on my birthday, I’ve come to realize that I have so many great memories with her on this date -- maybe this was her way to spend one more with me.

There are so many things that will forever remind me of Amy and the things that mattered to her -- curly red hair, fair skin that just wouldn’t tan no matter how much she wanted it to and I remember a time that Steve and Amy went horseback riding with me, and poor Amy's hands got so sunburned that they swelled up horribly afterward, homemade salsa and Mexican food, Bibles and daily devotionals, cross-stitching (which is a hobby she and I both loved), scrapbooks beautifully arranged (mine look nothing like hers), every time I go to UNL to visit my daughter who lives right across from the dorm where Amy and I lived, toilet-papered cars, mini-vans, beagles (how she loved Abby), precious moment figurines, fat planners stuffed with notes, trumpet players (she was so proud of Zach’s special gift), wheelchair basketball teams (she bragged about the red dawgs and wouldn’t have missed a game for anything), cyclists and hunters (how lucky was Amy to land a guy like Steve when they were both in junior high! Or perhaps it was the other way around), football coaches (my son is carrying on that proud tradition for you, Joe), mall walkers (remember when Amy and I happened upon you, Mignon, at Oakview? I think I actually said this instead -- Amy and I were in Oakview shopping one day, and suddenly Amy said, "There's my mom!" And it was.), the game show ninja warrior which Amy fixated on during my stay with her a few months after she was diagnosed and now I find myself stopping to watch it for a few minutes if I see it as I'm scrolling through the guide where before I'd never watched the show, this ring I wear every day because Amy was with me when my boyfriend bought it for me in a mall that she took us to in Dallas two years ago and it was such a perfect ring because it was unique and it's full of sapphires, my birth stone (it’s become my Amy ring), Christmas cookies, and of course every 4th of July and every September 13th along with many many more things. Believe me, I could go on and on, but let’s just say that not a day will go by where there won’t be something good that reminds me of her.

Amy and I met at the start of our freshman year at UNL because we lived on Sandoz 3, and we both ended up in the same Spanish class together; I now teach Spanish -- another reminder of Amy.  We bonded while walking to class and doing some of the homework together. There were a lot of girls who lived on Sandoz 3, but I’ve only stayed in touch, sporadically, with two others, so the fact that Amy and I remained friends all these years shows that we really were a yin and yang duo. Our differences would have driven most people apart over time. Instead, those differences along with important similarities we shared solidified our friendship and made us better friends as time went on.

Amy made this little pillow door hanger for me a long long time ago, and it has been hanging in various spots in my home ever since. It says “friends forever.” I think that says it all.

(a tribute to my best friend)

With love,

Tammy Marshall

September 13, 2018

I'll miss you for the rest of my life, dear friend. This photo was taken the summer of 2016 before Amy's world (and the world of all of us who loved her) got turned upside down.

Amy Marie (Vojtech) Beran

March 26, 1968 – September 7, 2018

After a courageous 18-month battle with cancer, Amy M. Beran (50 years old), passed away on September 7, 2018 at her home in Sachse, Texas surrounded by her loving family.

Amy was born on March 26, 1968 in Fremont, NE to Joe and Mignon (Kammerer) Vojtech.  She grew up in Fremont and had the privilege of attending Archbishop Bergan High School where she graduated in 1986.  While there she had the joy of going to school with her sister, Tanya, having her father as a teacher, playing the flute in the band, being on the drill team, singing in swing choir, and watching her father coach her future husband in football.

Amy attended the University of Nebraska-Lincoln where she graduated in 1990 with a degree in Speech Communications with a minor in Business.  She later worked in Human Resource positions, being a caregiver through home healthcare, and enjoyed her long-time role as a Mary Kay Cosmetics Consultant.

Amy married her high school sweetheart, Steve Beran, on June 9, 1990.  After college graduation they started their lives together in Lenexa, Kansas where their family grew with the births of their two sons, Zach in 1994, and Nathan in 1995.  They were fortunate to eventually move back home to Nebraska in 1997 where she enjoyed being active in her church St. Vincent De Paul Parish as a cantor and other volunteer activities.  Steve and Amy moved to Sachse, Texas in 2014.

Being active in her boys’ lives was very important to Amy.  She was an active volunteer at school activities and functions and was President of the Skutt Band Booster Club.   Amy was a volunteer for MDA, Special Olympics, St. Vincent DePaul Society, and Salvation Army.  She enjoyed participating in her Beta Sigma Phi Sorority in both Nebraska and Texas.  She also loved participating and leading Bible Study groups in Nebraska and Texas.

Survivors include husband,Steve Beran of Sachse, TX; sons, Zach Beran of Columbia, MO and Nathan Beran of Omaha, NE; parents, Joe and Mignon Vojtech of Omaha; sister, Tanya Hoham of Lincoln, NE.

Amy was a beloved aunt to her two nieces (Taryn Hoham and Savanna Beran) and her five nephews: Tyler Hoham, Lincoln and Creighton Small, and Jack and Noah Beran.   She was dearly loved by all of her aunts, uncles, cousins, in-laws, and extended family.

The family will receive friends on Thursday, Sept. 13th from 5pm to 7pm at the West Center Chapel, followed by VIGIL SERVICE at 7pm.  MASS OF CHRISTIAN BURIAL: Friday, Sept. 14th at 10:30am at St. Vincent de Paul Catholic Church, 14330 Eagle Run Drive.  Celebrants will be Rev. Dan Kampschneider and Amy’s cousin, Rev. Nathan Hall.  Interment: Memorial Cemetery in Fremont, NE following Mass.  Memorials may be directed to Amy’s favorite charities, the Muscular Dystrophy Association and the Skutt High School Band Department.

A Recent Shock. Shtick This!, Mr. ___________

For a few years I've been working on and off on what I'm calling a smart-ass advice book for first-year teachers. I don't necessarily plan to publish it (if I ever do) until after I retire in a few years because I plan to include some things that may piss off a few people. Let's face it -- not everyone likes a smart ass. Heck, even I don't like them sometimes, but I think that far too many teachers enter the profession with these rose-colored glasses on, and they really need someone to simply tell it like it is, so that way they can know that the long-run is worth the daily, often seemingly insurmountable, struggles.

Anyway, the only reason I'm telling you this is that I recently suffered a huge shock when I attended a high school basketball game. The coach of the opposing team was one of my high school teachers. In fact, he was THE ONLY TEACHER I EVER HATED, and I couldn't believe that he was still having an impact on young people over 30 years later! I was really angry about it in fact. Now, I'm not going to name him, and I'm going to pray that he is nothing like he was when I had to tolerate him as a history teacher, but I am going to share the excerpt from my book-in-progress where I give an example of how NOT to be for first-year teachers. Realize that I wrote this about a year ago, and remember that it's a work-in-progress.

Here it is with the specific part about him bolded:

Use whatever metaphor you want for the teaching profession, but I like to see students as the adult people we are helping them to become. It’s like an assembly line where they come to us these little partly formed packages, and it’s our jobs to put on a whole bunch of extra pieces to prepare them for life after school, and if just one of us screws it up, we’ve screwed it up for everyone.

Seriously, if a kid is an ass in our classroom, and we don’t do everything we can to help him not to be an ass, then he’ll be an ass the rest of his life and put a lot of other people through the agony of having to deal with him. True; we cannot fix everyone, especially when the damage is done at home, but we can do whatever we can while that kid is in our room, and we can show him that not everyone is an ass, so don’t be one yourself.

I had a high school history teacher who took my very serious question of “Why aren’t there any women in our history book?” and answered it with this little gem – “Because women have never done anything important.” I remember sitting there dumbfounded as he and quite a few of the guys laughed at what he thought was a funny reply to my sincere question. Now, imagine I hadn’t been the kind of person I am – a take-no-prisoners and put-up-with-zero-bullshit sort of gal – and instead I’d been beat down my whole life by men in my life or I simply suffered from low self-esteem. Any idea what kind of damage his answer would have done to me?

Instead, it just really, really, really pissed me off, and I guarantee that I didn’t care one little bit about anything that ever came out of that man’s mouth after that. I’ve had countless teachers over the years who have said countless things in class, but it’s that one truly asinine and thoughtless comment that I can still hear plain as day in my head, and it still pisses me off.

Clearly, that teacher was an idiot, and I’m hoping that you are not an idiot, but even the best of us say idiotic things from time to time, and if you happen to notice (as you should) that something you said, whether in jest or not, has had an obvious negative impact on your student, then you need to take steps immediately to remedy that. It seriously could be a simple misunderstanding, and that can easily be remedied. You and your student may not have the same sense of humor, and that’s fine, but if your “joke” crossed the lines of sexism, racism, religions, or anything else that was clearly in bad taste on your part, then you need to fix it immediately and refrain from those kinds of jokes in the future.

Even if what you say or do doesn’t have long-term ramifications, it could have short-term ones. If you are purposely mean or rude to a student, he’s going to leave your room in a foul mood, and he’s going to take that mood with him to the next class where he’s likely to act out or spout off rude comments about you, which could then land him in a detention or cause a serious disruption in the other teacher’s class. Believe me, teachers notice when other teachers are the problem. I’ve had numerous occasions where students have come to my class after certain, usually inexperienced, teachers’ classes over and over again in really bad moods, and often for quite justifiable reasons. Don’t be the teacher who is making other teachers’ jobs more problematic; you need them on your side. So, do your best to send the students out of your classroom in a decent mood. They don’t have to leave glowingly happy by all means, but they need to leave on a positive note.

People are our product, and we want them leaving us in the best condition possible. Either they are moving down the line to more advanced classes where the teachers will be adding more pieces to them, or they are walking out the door upon graduation, and where they go from there is up to them. If you’ve done your job to the best of your ability, they’ll be moving on in good working order, so do your damn job.

I sincerely hope that this man has changed. From what I observed of him as he coached, though, I'm not going to hold my breath. At least, considering how old he has to be by now, he won't be influencing young people too much longer if he hasn't changed for the better. 

Fortunately, while I had a few teachers who bored me, this man was the only teacher who I can say I truly despised. All my other teachers were good in one way or another. I know, as a teacher, that we can't please every student every day, but I also know that we don't have to intentionally be mean. He was intentionally mean to me that day and others after it (and he completely believed the idiotic thing he said). I've never forgotten it, so seeing him recently was just too big of a shock not to share.