Instead of thanks this time around, I would like to dedicate this book to two family members I lost in the last year.
My dad (Greg Kenoyer) died in May 2019 after battling ALS for six-and-a-half years. I’ve been told by well-meaning people that it was a blessing he passed, but here’s the thing: it wasn’t. He wasn’t done. Yes, his body had failed him, but his mind was still sharp, and we still had a husband, a dad, a grandfather, and a friend.
We knew that he had been reaching out to others with ALS via online forums, and I had done some light editing for him on a guide for those newly diagnosed, but we didn’t know the scope of what he’d been doing. Using his eye-gaze computer, he not only wrote a thorough guide for those needing more information on ALS, but he led a weekly online group, helped people in forums, ran an informational Facebook page, and helped create a protocol for emergency responders dealing with ALS patients (they need different care, and some things an emergency responder might do for a patient without ALS could kill someone who has it.)
I AM ALS (iamals.org) will be launching the protocol my dad and Juan Reyes created, and they asked me for permission to name it after him. The Kenoyer Protocol will hopefully help save many lives, and my dad will not only live on through us, but through his actions in his final years. Instead of feeling sorry for himself, he did constant research in order to better fight this disease, and he found ways to help and educate others.
I’m grateful to all the wonderful people who reached out to our family to let us know what my dad had done for them and how much he had impacted their lives.
Of course, before he had ALS my dad was still an amazing man. He was always there for me, always pushing me to be better, to achieve more. He taught me how to fight for myself, how to be responsible for my own actions, and all the little things, like how to ride a bike or how to change the oil and a tire in a car. He mowed the lawn every week when I was pregnant and my husband was out of town. He introduced me to sci-fi horror. We used to watch V, The X-Files, Dr. Who, and Twin Peaks together. Because of him, I’m a smartass and have a twisted sense of humor.
I miss you, dad, and I will always love you. I will never forget everything you did for me.
***
My grandma died February 2019 of cancer. She was my mom’s step-mom, but she was there for her just as a mom should be. She had three children of her own and three step-children. She was a western farm-girl, who married young, as was so often the case in those days. Her husband was abusive, but when he developed cancer, she nursed him until the end.
She married my grandpa, and they led a simple life together. Her sons both ended up with the same form of cancer that had killed her first husband. She survived the loss of her sons, my uncles, and continued taking care of everyone else. Of the three grandmothers I had, she was the one who acted most like what I imagined a grandma should. She was there for her grandchildren, kept our pictures on her walls and furniture, sent us birthday cards without fail, wrote us letters. She was tough when she needed to be, and soft when she needed to be. While I’m glad her pain is gone now, I’ll miss her.