A Divided Heart

I’m writing today with an old familiar feeling and one that I have since identified as a Divided Heart. 

On Sunday, we celebrated the life of Maggie Tesch held at the Marriott Center for Dance on the University of Utah campus.

You see, cancer can be ever so complicated. It conjures up emotions that are difficult to visit and ill-advised to suppress and ignore. 

We’ve coined the phrases: “I’m a Cancer Survivor” and “I’m not just a Survivor, I’m a Thriver.” I support this enthusiasm. I’m an optimist by nature. But there is also another truth. Sometimes, in this world of cancer, the spirit and the body separate, and these become the hardest of times.

While on a road trip through Canada this past summer, I received the news from a friend that Maggie Tesch had passed away. Although anticipated, it’s never easy to hear (and feel) the news. This photo of her family is how I think of her and her family. I taught her children yoga from a very young age and then again when they entered middle school at the Salt Lake Arts Academy. I taught her eldest sign language for a dance presentation that she choreographed herself for her 8th grade project, and I remember crying throughout her entire routine.

In my mind’s eye, I still envision her children as youngsters rather than who they are today, young adults. They are beautiful, kind and talented.

But this is also Maggie. A dancer. A principal ballerina for Ballet West. She lived half her life dancing. A fierce athlete who danced until she felt time to transition to teacher. She traveled the world and gave 110% for each performance each night. 

Her students and co-dancers will miss her tremendously.

Another side of Maggie, perhaps a lesser known side - but perhaps not (if you knew her) was advocacy. She Advocated for her community, her family, and herself. She was an enthusiastic believer in fairness and cheerleading for the underdog. She could manifest a desired outcome by believing in the process that helps make that come true.

“But Amy, Why  

A Divided Heart?”

I’m honoring Maggie from a distance while I send Michael to attend the Celebration of Life at the U of U. 

I’m honoring her from a table with her photo on it while signing Revealing Grace books at the Barnes and Noble in Layton, Utah. 

This was a difficult decision for me to make, but when I think about it - Maggie lived her life doing just what the book is about: Revealing Grace.

She and her husband, Dennis, are acknowledged in the final pages of the book for many reasons. In 2005, long before her own diagnosis, she was the first to coordinate meals for our family through St. Paul’s Epicopal Church. She spearheaded this mission because she felt our church needed to put action behind intention for community members. This was the beginning of a long list of community outreach projects.

The last time I saw Maggie was last Spring sometime and we were each rushing to fulfill a particular task that needed to get done. In any case, I’m forever grateful for that moment (another lesson behind the presents of presence). 

We were in Smith’s Grocery store. She was rushing out of the store and I was rushing in. We each looked at each other and stopped. She looked a bit overheated and wore a flopping hat that she struggled to keep on her head. 

We didn’t exchange many words and perhaps we didn’t exchange any. We simply stopped and gave each other a hug.

A divided heart - needing to be in two places at once or having your heart break from distressing news but still needing to drive carpool or finish a work project, can be a common dilemma. When we mindfully embrace the divide, a path emerges from the soft tending of our heart. 

I will miss Maggie Tesch.