These are the words we shared to memorialize our mother, Nancy Huhn, on December 17, 2015. Thank you, everyone, for everything.
The unbreakable spirit of Nancy Huhn is cause for celebration, so thank you, everyone, for celebrating with us today. Her perseverance in the face of adversity is an inspiration for us all, and has quite literally made the world a better place.
We probably all agree by now that Nancy has met all adversity in her life with a sly grin and simply responded, “Oh yeah? Watch me!”
When confronted with a challenge — or her sarcastic offspring — she often politely extended her hand with four fingers raised, and told her adversary to ‘read between the lines’. I mention the ‘sarcastic offspring’ because I’m thinking of that one time I explained what it really implied when she called me a “son of a bitch” and then how she told me to read between the lines in a more memorable way.
Anyway, we’d like to share some of our favorite examples of her unbreakable courage and positive attitude with you tonight.
“You already have 3 kids and a full-time job,” they said. “You can’t go to college.”
“It’s only a matter of time,” she said. “Watch me!” 10 years later and many, many evenings away from her family she finally earned her college degree.
“You can’t go into technology,” they said. “You are a woman.”
“It’s only a matter of time,” she said. “Watch me as I learn and grow on my own.”
“You can’t leave the comforts of your corporate job to join some upstart pizza joint,” they said. “You have a family to support and it will never last.”
“It’s only a matter of time,” she said. “Watch me as I help take this company public.” She geared up for the IPO and built a 20-year career at one of the most successful restaurant companies in history.
“You can’t win the Priority in People Award twice.” they said. “That’s never been done.”
“Nancy has been one of the greatest team members that Papa John’s has ever known,” said John Schnatter, “with her unwavering and resilient commitment to our company.”
“This cancer is inoperable and incurable. Since you are not a smoker or a coal miner the only treatments are experimental, and the side effects may include nasty rashes, skin peeling, allergic reactions, hair loss, brittle nails, paralysis, and uncontrollable vomiting,” they said. “You need to start making plans.”
“It’s only a matter of time.” she said. “Let’s go to Disney World to celebrate. Twice.”
“If you can survive five years of this treatment and the weekly commutes to Vanderbilt,” they said, “you will have rewritten history and science journals. No one on the planet in your condition is still alive.”
“It’s only a matter of time,” she said, “before I graduate from this program! This entire last year has been nothing but one fabulous turn of events after another. I feel like a person with a new lease on life!” (yet another verbatim — what a ridiculously positive attitude!)
“You won’t be able to do much after full radiation on your brain.” they said. “No one lives longer than 6 months after this.”
It was only a matter of time before she traveled to the state capital to lobby for improving home inspection legislation, aspiring to prevent anyone else from suffering the effects of radon gas like she did.
It was only a matter of time before she traveled to North Carolina and Florida to watch her daughters get married.
It was only a matter of time before she surpassed her goal of seeing her beloved granddaughter reach her fifth birthday — she’s now nine! And she has welcomed three more grandchildren since then.
It was only a matter of time — 5 years! — before her oncologist forced her to go on disability. She loved her career and co-workers that much.
It was only a matter of time before she decided she could get around town on her own again (though her ability to drive safely was still hotly debated among her offspring).
It was only a matter of time before she re-wrote the record books on lung cancer survival rates and treatment outcomes as she endured several clinical trials and countless rounds of radiation and chemo — 200 miles from her home.
Then last week the tables turned. “It’s only a matter of time,” they said. “Before we need to move her to palliative care.”
“We don’t have long,” they said. “We need to move now.”
“Do you want to keep fighting, mom?” Leslie asked last Monday. “Yes!” mom exclaimed, struggling between breaths.
Of course mom bounced back quickly in the ICU and avoided palliative care. We enjoyed three days of great conversations with her last week. As we left her room last Thursday night, on this we agreed: “It’s only a matter of time before you’re out of here and back on your feet. We will fight this again and get you back home, stronger and healthier than ever.”
But it was only a matter of time, unfortunately, before the strength of her soul was overtaken by the weakness of her exhausted body. Last Friday, she succumbed to the clinical reality that palliative care was the next step in her long journey.
It was only a matter of time, however, before many friends and family were visiting her bedside, sharing hugs and tears, telling funny stories and inappropriate jokes, and holding hands of the woman who inspired us so much for so long.
As I said before, this is not a time of sorrow or despair. This is a time in which we celebrate the triumphs of an amazing woman who, upon receiving notice of imminent death nine years ago, has selflessly offered up her mortal coil for the betterment of science and to improve the quality of life for many others who will inevitably find themselves confronting cancer in the future.
It was only a matter of time that we had Nancy Huhn here on earth, but — wow — she sure did make that time matter.
You often invited us, mom, to “Watch me!” as you shattered barriers and re-wrote the rules, but now it’s your turn to watch over us as your courageous spirit lives on. Watch us, mom, continue to make you proud.
Our deepest gratitude goes to the army of people who provided the hugs, cards, clinical care, fundraisers, road trips, and all the laughs that kept mom going for the past nine years.
May the immortal light of Nancy Huhn shine on for eternity.
