In the September 2009 issue, The Pulse ran a story on Bryan Booth. The story was of his struggle with Squamous Cell Carcinoma. This is a particularly aggressive form of cancer and spreads rapidly. Bryan had a malignant tumor in his throat which had to removed. Along with the tumor most of his tongue and part of his jaw had to be taken. He was only given a 25 percent chance of survival and was told that if he did, he would never talk again or be able to eat normally.

But as the article showed, Bryan did survive the surgery and he did talk again. According to his wife Sherry Sunday-Booth, he was talking the day after surgery.

“I got to the hospital late because of traffic and I started apologizing when I came into the room. Bryan said ‘That’s okay, honey.’ I was surprised I didn’t just faint right there. I asked him to say it again and when he did, I said, excuse me, went out into the hallway and called his parents. When I told them he spoke to me, they were ecstatic.”

Sherry went on to say, “He had a purpose, as arrogant and stubborn as my husband could appear, he had the kindest heart of anyone I have ever known, and he wanted to make sure that no one could call him a quitter. He fought with everything he had; no one could say he just gave up.”

After the surgery, Bryan and his family went back to leading as normal a life as possible. He now had to use a feeding tube and had to learn to talk again. But despite these obstacles, he went back to the life he was used to. As his condition improved, he was able to return to work and pursue his passion for theatre and music. Bryan was an accomplished pianist and recorded a CD of music to help offset some of his medical expenses. Bryan also directed several well received plays during this time. He relearned to talk without the use of most of his tongue and eventually even sang again. I had heard Bryan sing prior to surgery and Bryan had a great voice. The first time he sang after the surgery, I was also there; he sang “Hallelujah” by Jeff Buckley. It was an amazing moment and there wasn’t a dry eye in the house.

The Sunday-Booth family was able to maintain a normal life together for almost two years before the cancer returned. Although he won battle after battle against all odds, Bryan finally succumbed to cancer in July of 2012. The rest of this story is about his final days and the aftermath of his life.

Bryan Booth married Sherry Sunday on April 16, 2010. In typical Bryan fashion of not doing things the conventional way, he decided to take her name as well as her taking his, and became known as Bryan Sunday-Booth. Sherry was a divorced mother of three adolescent children when they met. Even though Bryan was sick for a great deal of their relationship, he was far more than a step-father to the children; he was, by their own words, “Co-Dad”. Bryan and Sherry were blessed with a grandchild, whom Bryan doted on. “When we would come home and the baby was there, he would just disappear with him. He would spend hours sitting in the bedroom playing with him or just holding him and watching television,” Sherry said.

When the cancer returned, it spread to Bryan’s kidneys and lungs.

“The doctors didn’t give him a time frame. From past experiences, he had taught them better than that,” Sherry said.

Despite aggressive treatment, the cancer eventually spread into his brain, and then the doctors told Sherry he had no more than three months to live. Bryan went into the Middle Tennessee Medical Center on July 16 for what would be the last time. His body was frail and his gallant struggle was nearing its end. After several days in ICU, the nursing staff informed Sherry that there was no hope for improvement. Sherry made the decision to turn off life support. After Bryan’s parents were informed of the decision, Sherry went out front of the hospital, looked up in the sky and said, “Okay, I know he’s got to go but, you got to do me one thing—I want the world to know. I want the world to know that an amazing event is happening. I want a blaze of glory; I want the light to shine down. I want him taken out in the most beautiful and brilliant light ever.

“Early on the morning of July 20, 2012, there came the most amazing storm. Lightning lit up the sky, thunder shook the ground and a driving rain fell,” Sherry said. In the midst of this majestic storm, Bryan Sunday-Booth, with his wife and his family around him, quietly drew his last breath, laid down his earthly burdens and went to meet whatever awaits us on the other side. His passing was trumpeted by a raging storm, while those that he loved most were gathered at his side. Sherry got her wish. Bryan was cremated and the ashes were separated. Some went to his parents, some to Sherry and the kids.

“We all carry a necklace that contains his ashes, so he can go with us everywhere” Sherry said.

There was a memorial held for Bryan at The Center for the Arts. It was a shared idea of Bryan and Sherry that arose from a memorial service held at The Murfreesboro Little Theatre for fellow actor Jerry Bailey. As was the case with Jerry, they wanted this gathering to be of a celebration of his life and not a mourning of his death. Over 200 people attended this celebration and although there were tears, it was a happy event. There were several displays of the keepsakes and memories of Bryan’s life. In the theater, a film put together by Nanette Araujo showed numerous clips of Bryan as an actor and a director. There were many humorous and dramatic moments of him on stage and several clips of him singing. After watching the movie, many of Bryan’s family and friends shared stories and memories of him with the crowd. Afterwards, they all congregated in the gallery and fellowshipped.

There is a large community theater scene in the Murfreesboro area, split over several venues and it is filled with creative and passionate actors. People with that kind of drive and passion are bound to conflict with other passionate people, that is just part of theater. But when death or sickness befalls a fellow thespian, there is a family bond among these people that is undeniable. People that haven’t seen or talked to each other in a long time pick up old friendships like they had just seen them yesterday. Center For The Arts, Murfreesboro Little Theatre and Out Front On Main, who are in direct competition on a weekly basis, all contributed to this memorial. Sherry said Bryan would have been proud of that.

Life is harder for Sherry now. Other than the loss of income, she lost her husband and her best friend. The tears come almost instantly when she talks of it.

“Before he died, we talked every day, not just talked, but about everything that happened. All the stupid little stuff that we did, we shared that every day. Every night I would hold his head in my lap and we would go through the day again and tell each other how much we loved each other. Now, I deal with it by just breathing, I just function every day. The kids do the same; they just get through the day. Sometimes they will text me with something and say Bryan would have appreciated this. It hasn’t gotten any easier yet. I haven’t gotten to the point where I can sometimes forget. Bryan’s life insurance helped some financially but I work three jobs now, so I don’t have a lot of time to lament. I wish I would have taken the time to get myself together before throwing myself back into work, but being busy does help some. These days, it’s hard to be around other people because I don’t know what a proper grieving period is, and I feel that all the people around me are tired of hearing about Bryan. I don’t know how to react to that, so I avoid it. It’s really hard for me to be around people or remember a time before Bryan; he was in every aspect of my life. I don’t want to overwhelm people or cry on their shoulders, that’s not a burden they need to carry. I don’t know if there is a point where this gets easier, my soul mate is gone.

“If I have anything to share with others it would be this: choose your battles, and don’t let the small stuff bother you. Concentrate more on the love and the legacy you leave behind. Treasure your loved ones and know them well. Every day is a gift, that’s why it’s called the present. Make sure you talk to them and tell them that you love them every day, Bryan did that.”

After stopping to compose herself Sherry offered this to anyone in a similar situation. “If someone in your life is going through this, realize that the cancer isn’t them. If they try to push you away, don’t let them. Make sure that you are there. Sometimes it’s hard, but when it all comes down to the end, you will always have that love and those memories.”

Bryan Sunday-Booth was a prolific writer, and as featured in the first article about him, he wrote the following “Love Letter to Cancer” which now graces the wall of several local hospitals:

Dear Cancer,
There are so many things that I want to say to you, so many that I need to say. You have come into my life and altered it in the radical way that only those closest to a person can manage. You have forced me to reevaluate my life, my priorities, and my emotions. You have made me more self-aware; and for that, I thank you.

You have brought my family closer together. For many years now, we have been treading water; we have let the disagreements and ideological differences become the unspoken walls between us. We have let these walls close us off from each other and from the tapestries of blood and time that will always unite us. Yet, with a single word, a single appearance, you have ground those walls to dust. There is a closeness, a reunion, that was wholly unexpected—and perhaps, on some level, feared—because of the honesty that it will force upon each of us. However, I now see us embracing that honesty, consequences and discomfort be damned. Life, as you have shown us so powerfully, is too short for anything but truth. So, cancer, for giving me my family back, I thank you.

You have shown me that it is acceptable to rely on others, that I am permitted to be weak in my own way and at my own time. You have given me the strength to depend upon those I love, and because I have finally taken that step, you have unlocked the door to show me what real love is. I can see it so much more clearly than I ever could before. You have given me the love of my life, and you have taught me to revel in her strength. For teaching me these early lessons in those parts of love I have always overlooked, I thank you.

You have shown me how many true friends I have. Over the past month, I have been awed and humbled by the amount of love and support that I have received from friends I have never even met. My relationships with those I have met have deepened, have sweetened, have strengthened into unbreakable bonds. I have seen parts of my friends that otherwise would have remained hidden until the next time of crisis. I have been overwhelmed by generosity and concern and kindness, and for this, I thank you.

You have strengthened my resolve and my commitment. You have honed my curiosity and my creativity. You have given me a very special set of tools; for these tools, I thank you.

With these tools, Cancer, I will defeat you. The love, the creativity, the concern, the generosity, the resolve—I will ride them as a tide of healing against you. I have a purpose that I will not abandon. I have been the most fortunate recipient of such generosity that I will not abandon. I will bring the love of hundreds and thousands against you. And you will lose. You will fail. You will not claim me.

For all these things, and for the gifts you have yet to bring to my life, I thank you. Yet I warn you, the more you attempt to tighten your grip on my life, the more easily I will best you. My life is mine; it is not yours. Nor will it ever be.

Farewell, Cancer. I will be free of you, and, though I will bathe in the echoes of your passing for many years to come, you will not be missed.

~~
Shortly before his death, Bryan wrote a poem for Sherry that he never got to finish. The idea came from a movie that both Sherry and Bryan cherished. The movie was called What Dreams May Come and is about a man who dies and goes to heaven. The bond between his wife and him is so strong that when she paints a picture of a purple tree, it appears in his heaven. This is that poem:

Paint for me a purple tree
High upon a hill
And there I’ll sit and wait for you
Until all time stands still
I’m not sure where I’m going
But I know where I have been
I’ve been with you forever
And I’ll be with you again