Andy

 

On March 14, 1969, a blonde-haired, blue-eyed baby boy fought his way into this world. I say fought because that is exactly what he did. During the epidural before his birth, it malfunctioned medically, and instead of numbing where it was supposed to numb Mom, it numbed her all the way to her neck. This situation put both Mom and baby in danger. Once this was corrected, the baby came into this world blue with the umbilical cord wrapped around his neck. Soon though, after some quick and diligent work, the sounds of the baby's cry could be heard throughout the delivery room to the great relief of my mother. This baby was Andrew (Andy) Robert Jacques....my little brother. 

What none of us could have known that day is that coming into this world was just one of the many battles Andy would fight in his life and how he would affect the world and change lives in the years to come. 

Andy's first year of life was not an easy one. He was born at a time when the medical community felt breastfeeding was not a benefit to the mother or child. Thus, he was thrown into a world of formula and none of it could his body handle. He was literally allergic to every formula that was on the market which put his ability to gain weight and thrive at great risk. Luckily, Mom, after much trial and error came up with a homemade formula that Andy's tiny body would tolerate and soon his battle to thrive and survive was won. 

After Andy learned to walk, Mom soon discovered that Andy began tripping and falling as his right foot began to turn in. For whatever reason, on taking him to the doctor, the first conclusion jumped to was the possibility of bone cancer. Mom had many sleepless nights as Andy was tested for the dreaded "C" word, but soon it was believed that Andy's foot just turned in and he was then put into a pair of heavy brown corrective shoes. They helped some, but Andy hated them and cried every time he had to wear them. 

About this time, we went to live with my aunt for a while who was a nurse and she told Mom to take off that awful shoe, to let him run barefoot as much as possible, and to buy him a pair of cowboy boots. Now, I don't know if these commands came from her nursing education or were simply common sense beliefs, but Mom did as she was told. Off came the shoes and Andy soon had a spiffy pair of red cowboy boots. Within a couple of months, Andy was walking fine and another battle had been fought and won. 

As Andy grew, so did his imagination and humor. He loved to make people laugh and he was about two when he learned he could capture an audience and make them laugh. At that point in his life, westerns were big-time TV fare and we had watched a show where someone had died and all the cowboys took off their hats and cried. This somehow stuck with Andy, so he would put on his red boots and he had a red cowboy hat and then he would get Mom or I to say, "They are dead. Now take off your hat and cry." Of course, we would and he would then dramatically fall to his knees, pull his hat off put it over his heart, and pretend to cry like he was auditioning for his big break in TV. To his delight, each and every time, we would laugh so hard over his dramatics, and in those early moments, we helped to cultivate his love for humor and making others laugh. 

Andy's imagination knew no bounds and some of his happiest moments as a child were spent with nothing but big cardboard boxes and his own brain. He could make that box a house, a castle, a spaceship, or his favorite.....a race car, in which he would ride down the stairs when Mom wasn't looking. He also had a thing about taking every single toy he had out of his playroom and relocating it to the den in a big pile. Once his playroom was completely empty, he would then take all the toys and put them back exactly where they went. I never understood this, but it seemed to make him very happy and so proud when the task was completed. 

One of the things that always amazed me about Andy was that he was always a genuinely good child. Before he came along, and even at times after, my mother had worn out ping pong paddles, hairbrushes, and switches on my naughty little backside, but with Andy, that was never necessary. If Mom told me to do something, it was a 50/50 bet whether it would ever be accomplished, but with him, it was done immediately without a complaint. I think he only got spanked one time in his life and that was when he ran out in front of a car and almost got hit. Even then though, it was traumatic for both him and Mom and I think she cried as hard as he did. 

As Andy grew older, his ability to tell a story and hone his humor grew also. He also learned to master voices and did pretty good imitations of actors and characters. One of his best was the late great Jack Benny. When the resurgence of old-time reruns came into fashion, the Jack Benny Show was one of them and Andy dearly loved the show and spent his days getting Jack Benny's vocal and physical actions down to an art. He would then spend his time making Mom and me laugh as he would just out of nowhere become Mr. Benny. He would integrate it into a conversation at just the perfect time without missing a beat or cracking a smile. It never failed to crack me up which always made him smile. 

When Andy was 13, his world was turned upside down. I was at college and on Halloween, Mom fell off a ladder and broke her leg, ankle, and foot. It was so badly broken that they couldn't even cast it, and the doctor felt that she would likely be "bedridden" (his words) for the rest of her life. For whatever reason, Mom didn't let me know what happened (she didn't want me coming home from college I guess), so Andy was left to take care of her. He had to take over the laundry, shopping, helping her before and after school, and still go to school and do his homework. True to form, he managed, but maybe with just the teeniest bit of resentment. 

Mom later told me that she had a portable toilet in her room and in the morning before school, Andy would put it by her bed and then when he got home he would dispose of it. Well, the whole being 13 and a caretaker thing was starting to wear on him and one morning he was mad at Mom so rather than move it by the bed, he moved the toilet out of the room and left. Mom said at first she was a little upset, but then the more she thought about it, she started to laugh. She said she spent the entire day laughing and chuckling over Andy's one and only defiant act in a huge sea of caregiving. It was that day that Mom decided that she was done laying in bed and that she was going to walk again.....and she did.....in record time. To this day it makes me equal parts laugh and feel great compassion for what Andy went through back then. 

As Andy grew older, he developed some lifelong loves. He loved fishing and camping which my dad cultivated in him. He loved art, music, photography, the holidays, and Star Wars. 

He loved bands like Styx, Toto, and Night Ranger and later down the line, he got a side job using his love of photography, to take photos at the Coliseum of different bands that came to town. His love of photography started in high school and stayed in his life in some form until the end. 

In high school and college, Andy's art became a passion with him. He loved to paint in oils and acrylics, along with turning his photography into art. In college he even had his work displayed in some art shows. I always was amazed at his skill and his ability to see things with his artistic eye that most of us miss in everyday life. 

In Andy's high school years, he felt the typical struggle of trying to find his place and where he fit in. In his eyes, he always felt like a bit of the odd man out, but looking back, he did fit in, he just didn't realize it. He always had friends and for the most part, was liked by everyone. In fact, several of the friends he made in his early years, became lifelong friends. His art and photography gave him places on the yearbook staff and his dedication to studying made him a much better student than I ever was. 

While high school may not have left Andy feeling at his highest comfort level, college is where Andy came into himself. In his college years, he expanded on the things he loved, grew a lasting friend base, gained new experiences, and ultimately found the love of his life, Gail. In fact, the first time Mom and I met Gail, we both said the same thing, she is Andy's perfect match. 

Andy and Gail were introduced by a teacher they mutually had. I know for a fact that Andy was head over heels from day one and soon they were talking marriage. On June 6, 1992, Andy and Gail began a 31-year marriage that would allow them many adventures and experiences, not to mention they would have a son, who would be the joy of Andy's life. 

After Andy and Gail had been married for sixteen years, they had remained childless, and having a child was a dream they both wanted. That dream was made a reality when they adopted their son Ayden. He was adopted as a newborn and only today did I hear the complete story of how the adoption came about. It was a true God stepped-in story where He put the right people in the right place at the right time. 

As a dad, Andy was one of the best. Before Ayden, he had some practice with my boys, but having his own son brought Andy to life. As a family, they traveled a bit, and Andy shared his love of fishing, camping, and hiking with Ayden. He also became very active in Boy Scouts being a leader and helping Ayden continue to cultivate a love for the outdoors and all that being a Boy Scout entails. 

Once out of college, Andy and Gail lived in Salina, then Colorado (a place he truly loved) and then they moved back to Wichita where they stayed. Andy went to work as a web designer for Butler County Community College and stayed their 25 years until his retirement. During this time, Andy and Gail also had their own business, Jacques Designs, where they designed websites for different businesses. 

In 2017, Andy was diagnosed with colon cancer. He knew that cancer would be likely in his lifetime as he carried the Lynch Syndrome gene that our mother had. As her children, we each had a 50% chance of having the gene which meant not "if" we would get cancer but "when" we would get cancer. After testing for the gene, I didn't have it, but Andy did. 

After the original diagnosis, he ended up having colon cancer twice and the second time resulted in him losing most of his colon. He then had bladder cancer twice and the second time he lost his bladder. He got it a third time too as he got bladder cancer where his bladder had been. He also had kidney cancer twice and most recently he was diagnosed with lung and bone cancer. They were all primary cancers which is pretty typical of the LS gene. Along with the cancer diagnosis came numerous surgeries and treatments from chemo to radiation and immunotherapy. In some cases, the treatments were harder on him than the disease itself. From the treatments, he developed non-alcoholic cirrhosis of the liver, diabetes, scoliosis, and osteoporosis, not to mention a broken hip socket. Through all of this though, he rarely complained. 

Andy's life over the last six years has been stress of diagnosis, doctors, trips to KC and Houston, surgeries, infections, and many many hospital stays. Through all of this though, he tried to work until he simply couldn't, he tried to keep up Boys Scouts and he fought like it was his job. He never gave up hope and he did his best to keep as much normalcy in their lives as he possibly could. 

As children, Andy and I were very close. As adults, circumstances and situations drew us apart and we lost the bond that we had created as kids. In the last couple of years though, we opened up communication again and we were able to have long talks and get to know each other. He began to call me more after he retired and we would talk about the present and reminisce over our mutual past. I caught up on his life and he caught up on mine. I would ask him honest and pointed questions about his illness and he gave me honest answers, and through this, I saw my brother for who he really was. 

If you listen to those who knew Andy, friends, family, and business associates, the first thing they will always comment on is his sense of humor. He loved a good joke and nothing tickled him more than to catch someone off guard with an inappropriate or even scathingly funny comment. Often his funniest moments were when humor wasn't expected such as at church or a funeral. I have a bit of him in me and in the last couple of days, I have thought of some pretty inappropriate comments myself, that would scandalize most people but would have Andy rolling. Wish he were here to hear them. 

Words to describe Andy's humor that I have heard have been shocking, inappropriate, hysterical, unexpected, and wicked to name a few and to that, I say....yes. His humor was all that and more. 

Andy has also been described as a mentor, kind, generous with his time, a great dad, husband, and friend. His skill with web design and photography has been praised and apparently, he was pretty proficient with sending the late-night meme. 

In the last few days, I have done nothing but go over my lifetime with Andy. I have deep-dived into my memories of our childhood and psycho-analyzed our adult years. Mostly though, I have been so grateful for the last year. I am grateful for the phone conversations, and the texts, and that I had the ability to tell him what he meant to me and how much I truly loved him. I am grateful he got to meet my grandkids and that we got to talk about all the people and things he loved. I am grateful he called and wanted to talk and that he would talk to me about some of the hard stuff. I am grateful that I really got to know my brother. 

So yes, Andy was an artist with an artist's eye and imagination. He was a photographer, a web designer, a lover of fishing and camping, a Boy Scout leader, a traveler, and a lover of Christmas, Halloween, and fireworks. He was a little boy who rode cardboard boxes down the stairs when Mom wasn't watching, and who had finger gun fights with me every day for a year. He loved Star Wars, decorating for holidays,  and 80's music. He was a good son who loved, took care of, and missed his parents. He was a good dad, husband, and friend.....and he was my brother. And what I have learned recently is that he was also the strongest person I have ever known, beating back cancer time and again and fighting to stay with his family for as long as he could. He was a man of great faith, understanding that God's plan is not always ours and yet continuing to go along for the ride without question. He was the greatest fighter I have ever known and through it all, he kept his sense of humor and tried his hardest to be as little "burden" as he could be for those around him. 

In the last year, my little brother has taught me so much about the struggle of living and the grace of dying. I also am acutely aware that because of Andy's cancer, he touched so many lives he might not have otherwise touched. There was so much purpose in his life and even in his illness, and I have no doubt that God worked through him to change lives. Andy definitely changed mine and through it all,  he became my hero. 

On Nov. 20, 2023, Andy's last fight ended. He left this world peacefully and quietly with Gail by his side. He had accomplished all God had laid out for him and I have no doubt that my parents, his dogs, my husband, my daughter, and a myriad of other family and friends greeted him on his arrival to heaven. In fact, I bet he attended a birthday party or two also. 

As I sit here, my heart breaks writing this as I mourn his loss, but it also swells with pride knowing that I am the only one who can claim.....Andy was my brother. 

Rest dear Andy. Your journey is complete.