Cheers to you, Brittany

A person I once shared memories with is gone. I have been lucky enough to have lived almost 30 years and have never have lost someone from my generation. Brittany Diaz wasn’t an acquaintance with whom I had one or two classes with or gave a casual hug to in the hall. She also wasn’t a best friend, or someone whom I could say I knew inside and out. She was, however, a person who burst into my life during the start of middle school and whose fiery personality left an equally lasting impression when she left. Despite no recent close ties to her, I can sieve through my rolodex of adolescence and uncover snapshots and remnants of the brown haired girl with the wide smile and mischievous eyes I do remember.

Though Brittany and I went to the same high school, those years with her are much cloudier than the crystal clear images that easily emerge from middle school. She was spunky. Intelligent. Stubborn. As my 7th grade lab partner (and her mom as the chemistry teacher), we were assigned to two person desks in the back of the classroom. Typical of any preteen who would have been placed in her mother’s classroom, Brittany enjoyed being defiant. I had to hold back laughter when she vocally disagreed with anything her mom said. “Deborah!!!” she would shout loudly (and quite brazenly) interrupt her mother’s lesson plan with her hands on her hips and head tilted to the side in an entitled face off.

In another incident, I remember her mother asking us to go down to her car and retrieve something or the other that she needed for a class. The thought of sending two unchaperoned seventh grade students down to the parking lot with keys to a little red sports car was something that Mrs. Favela (at the time) clearly underestimated. Brittany took full advantage. She opened the door, turned the keys in the ignition, started blasting the local radio station and danced in the parking lot. I remember watching her in awe. I was terrified of getting a Blue Slip for missing a homework assignment and here we were on the verge of the biggest, baddest disciplinary action if any teacher caught us. But Brittany couldn’t be bothered- she was having the time of her life. Even at that young age, she was mature enough to understand that despite the consequence that leered in front of her, her moment of freedom and innocent rebellion and fun was a memory created, fully enjoyed, and very valued over a silly admonishment letter.

One of the things that were characteristically identifiable to Brittany throughout St. Johns was her frustration whenever a stranger mispronounced her name as May-nerd. (Ironically, all of the news anchors have done this to date and I can imagine our alumnus cringing every time we hear it and recalling this specific Brittany-ism). “It’s MA-NARD- it’s French!” she would exclaim and then sigh with exasperation.

On our 8th grade trip to Washington D.C., Brittany was one of four of my roommates for that week. Though I have faint memories of giggling and staying up too late and playing pranks on the boys, I wish I could scrape the ice off the window to my past and revisit the memory. What did we laugh about? Who had a crush on whom? Unfortunately, you never know which memories you want to hold on to until you realize that image is one of the last recollections you have with someone special.

When I found out in April that Brittany was diagnosed with a stage 4 terminal brain cancer, I, like most of my classmates, middle school and high school communities, was stunned. It is now heartbreakingly commonplace to hear that people you know, people you went to college with or shared a childhood with or even family members have been hit with cancer. It is a cold, ALS ice bucket, shock, however, to hear that someone you know and shared memories with has only six months to live. Though Brittany and I had not kept in touch after high school, college, or grad school, I, like most of my fellow Millennials virtually knew what was going on with old classmates through the magic of Facebook and social media. While we weren’t close, we “liked” each other’s wedding pictures, status updates and occasional funny quotes as a way to still stay somewhat connected.

I began avidly following her journey since her first disclosure on Facebook and 15 years later, began getting to know her all over again. Not only was she still the vocal, passionate, adventurous spirit that I remembered her to be, but Brittany also exemplified depth in a way so few can. As she began documenting her sickness and experienced herself grow weaker, she became the authentic model for carpe diem. Brittany continued to travel. She hiked at Yellowstone. She saw glaciers in Alaska. All the while, she also began a personal campaign to educate herself and create awareness for an agenda that has been largely absent in mainstream politics and national debate. Her commitment to raise awareness about Death with Dignity is truly noteworthy and a testament to what an amazing spirit she was. This is an issue that revolves around a dying patient’s right and choice to make their own healthcare decisions to end their suffering in a dignified way. Brittany’s research on the subject matter, her move to Oregon, one of five states that supports access to this law, and her bold movement to help others obtain this right embodies the sacrifice that she went through in her final days to ensure this cause can also be attained for others.

In addition to Brittany’s fight to make certain this issue known, her journey has spread like wildfire and has fiercely reunited our middle and high school communities for the first time since our caps went flying. Despite the religious implications and beliefs of the institutions we hailed from, everyone has rallied together and created a network of unconditional love, support and admiration for Brittany’s strength and bravery. Brittany herself has personally thanked friends and family who have sent her gifts of support and letters of encouragement. She has pillared against criticism, weathered against counter arguments and has confidently stood her ground. She has left a lasting legacy for people to live life to the fullest and every day as their last. Cheers to you, Brittany and your kind and resilient soul- I hope the music you’re dancing to up there is extra loud.