A pleasant summer evening 30 years ago in Riverside Park remains vivid even today.
I was there to coach son Bob and others on the Register’s PeeWee League team, whiling away time until the first game of the evening concluded.
Someone nudged my shoulder. I turned and there, cute as the dickens, was a little girl, shyly holding out a brownie.
Among kids on the team was Eric Weide. His mother, Jeannie, was in the habit of occasionally bringing treats for the kids, and never forgot the coaches. It was Eric’s sister, Amber, who offered me the melt-in-your-mouth chocolate morsel.
I never forgot that little girl. She was at every game, as were her parents and Eric’s younger brother, Chris. She always had a cheerful disposition, smiling from ear to ear, and never seemed to have a dull moment.
Monday Amber died, at age 35. She was robbed of life by Ewing’s sarcoma, a rare form of cancer she had fought for eight years.
During the past several years, she and I visited for stories when friends and relatives planned fundraising events to help her weather the financial storm that accompanies such a horrendous disease and treatments required. Response always was generous by many, testimony to how well-liked was the little girl with the big smile.
Even though adversity was her constant companion at a time when she should have been enjoyed halcyon days of life, she forged ahead with a daycare, spending 10 years of her young life nurturing the children of others, all of whom she came to love and cherish as if they were her own.
She never gave any quarter, always looked ahead with faith that something would occur to reverse the illness and its effects.
Amber has two daughters, Bayleigh and Khloeigh, and to her very great credit she made every effort not to permit her own trials to adversely affect their lives.
And, as recently as late July of this year, Amber was thinking of others who have been dealt a medical blow. She joined with a group of other young mothers to raise money to help find a cure to juvenile diabetes.
Amber’s funeral services are this morning, but her legacy of hope and determination will live for years in the hearts of those who knew her.
— Bob Johnson
Adversity didn’t get the better of her
