Thanks, Ty

Ty and Terri were wonderful people, and there’s no confusion on that matter in this town. 16,000 people either attending or live-streaming a funeral, are you kidding me?

And of course Daphne was right. Shortly after the forewarning text, my Facebook feed was dripping with love and tears about this couple who touched so many lives. 

Among the first things to cross my mind when I heard the news was, Well, I guess at least they went together.I believe if they could choose, that’s what they would want. I try to imagine Ty moving on without Terri, and I just get bleary eyed. Were ever two grown adults so in love?

It’s fitting that the news came from Daphne. Daphne is the one who pulled me into a project almost five years ago — my first freelance gig — and it was helping Ty write the story of his life and calling, what became his book, A Thousand Screaming Mules.

And so I have an unusual intersection with Ty’s life. There were these few months of being incredibly close. Not only did I comb over this sweet pastor’s life story from his Leave it to Beaver beginnings through his vision for and founding of the Hope Center in North Omaha. But Daphne and I would also meet with Ty frequently during those months to dig a little deeper into one of his chapters. We started calling these meetings “therapy sessions,” as writing so often can be. Ty was never one to shy away from tears, and I’m pretty sure he shed several every time we had a “session.”

Part of the reason that this project was so memorable to me was that it was my first freelance gig. But more than that, it was my life rope. It was my way forward.

I was leaving a bruised non-profit feeling pretty beat up myself. I’d given five months’ notice and had started diminishing my hours there, as was customary when one of the community members was leaving, so we could get used to them not being around. Phasing ourselves out before our final disappearing act.

The phase-out was grueling and I was not well to begin with. I picked up a temporary, part-time proofreading job at an ad agency in town to help separate me as well as bankroll my release.

But I didn’t know what was next. I felt lost.

And then Daphne wrote over and asked if I might be interested in this book project. So I grabbed on.

I got to test the waters in an unusual career, and I got to figure out some things that I was actually pretty good at. Plus, working with Daphne was always a dream; and those therapy sessions with Ty were healing for me, too, because when he’d cry, I’d cry.

In reality, my relationship with the Schenzels was a blip, and then it was mostly over. Other than Facebook and stories from friends who were in normal relationship with them, I haven’t interacted with Ty or Terri in five years, even though I always wished them well. I was not among the 16,000 who attended (physically or virtually) their funeral. I didn’t feel I needed to take up space there when I knew they would be so many others who would want/need to. People who were much closer, who’d had a bigger impact or been impacted more.

I did watch video of the four Schenzel kids speaking at their parents’ funeral. A few of them said how helpful it had been, how comforting to see what people were sharing about their parents on social media. And I think that’s why I’ve decided to post this. Not trying to steal any spotlight. But, just in case these thoughts I’ve gathered are helpful to anyone.

It’s been helpful for me, at any rate, to take this moment to say thanks. Thanks for that few-month blip, thanks for showing me what crazy love looks like after 25 years, thanks for being such a positive and grateful couple, thanks for sharing with me the vulnerable raw story of your life and trusting me to help gently handle it, thanks for the healing tears, and thank you, thank you for the life rope.