"Given Six Months. Thirty-Seven Years Later..." — 250 USA #10: Candace

I met Candace in high school. Within a few years after, she was diagnosed with ALS and given six months to live.

That was over 37 years ago.

Candace has that rebel spirit — she refused to accept a diagnosis that meant demise for her, and her spirit would not allow it. What a powerful spark of life she still carries, having overcome what is a death sentence for most people.

Today, Candace has a place to call home, a boyfriend, and a custom van that gives her real autonomy and freedom. She's still in a wheelchair. She still has a spark in her eye that hasn't dimmed in over three decades.

We spent time remembering the 1980s together. She described a costume I wore to a high school dance in exact detail — colors, pieces, all of it. She recalled the vending machine selections from our high school cafeteria, one by one. Her memory is extraordinary.

I played her a few songs. "Back from the Edge" came out unplanned — I hadn't intended to play it, but something told me she'd relate. She's been pushed to the edge more times than most people ever will be. It hit exactly the way I hoped.
Then I played "Lost But Goin' Home," a song I'd planned before I ever arrived. This one really hit. She told me she was having visions during it — thinking about a home she'd never known, but was still on her way to.

"We're lost but going home, to a home we've never known, but we're goin' home. We're goin' home." (From Lost But Goin Home)

We closed out with a little bit of "Hallelujah," her mom's favorite song, and a snippet of R.E.M.'s "The One I Love" — just for fun, to land us back in the '80s and '90s for a minute.

What she wrote in my journal: "Your music is such a blessing. Your songs plotted me through a journey my soul needed to heal. Thank you for sharing your talent with me. God bless, friend for life, Candace."

This touches me; only an hour invested, but an experience that expands through the heart and soul for a lifetime.

Somewhere in these 250, there's a moment meant for you. This one was Candace's.