Episode Transcript
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0:01
Natasha: Welcome to FASCINATING ENTREPRENEURS.
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How do people end up becoming an entrepreneur?
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How do they scale and grow their businesses?
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How do they plan for profit? Are they in it for life?
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Are they building to exit these in a myriad of other topics?
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Will be discussed to pull back the veil on the wizardry of successful
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and FASCINATING ENTREPRENEURS.
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My book, RELENTLESS is now available everywhere Books can be bought online,
0:32
including Amazon and BarnesAndNoble.com.
0:35
Try your local indie bookstore too. And if they don't have it, they can order it.
0:40
Just ask them. The reviews are streaming in and I'm so thankful for the positive feedback
0:45
as well as hearing from people that my memoir has impacted them positively.
0:50
It is not enough to be resilient.
0:53
You have to be relentless. You can go to the relentless book.com for more information.
1:00
Thank you so much. Hi.
1:04
It's Natasha. Today we have a very special and unusual show.
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We usually do interviews with FASCINATING ENTREPRENEURS.
1:14
Today, we get a peek into a scene from this entrepreneur's life.
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Entrepreneurship can sometimes seem all-consuming.
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It's fun, stressful, and oftentimes our identity, but there are other
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aspects of an entrepreneur's life.
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Personal, family, hobbies.
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Today I wanna share with you one of the most challenging events in my life,
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A low inflection point with glimpses of awe and magic woven throughout.
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I believe we should share our stories to demystify the impossible, to own
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up to the challenges, to teach and learn from one another, not just
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about what we're experts in within our businesses, but also our lives.
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It all meshes together and you can't completely compartmentalize
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to exclude one from the other. But we don't wear our vulnerabilities on our sleeves.
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It's not cocktail talk, nor is it networking, etiquette.
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But maybe it should be. We'd go a lot deeper, much faster if we skipped the surface level talk.
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I was just with the group of entrepreneurs that, for the most part, hadn't met.
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That are members of the INC Magazine Masters group.
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We all gathered at the Modern Elder Academy in Baja, Mexico, led by the
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brilliant, funny, and dapper Chip Conley.
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We were firmly bonded as a group within the first 24.
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How did this happen? I've been studying this and we'll let you know when I figured it out
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completely, but I'll tell you this, I didn't know what many of these people's
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businesses were and I didn't care.
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What I learned about them first was their deepest feelings, challenges,
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and what made them uniquely them.
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So today on this episode of Fascinating Entrepreneurs, I will share with
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you a bit of what happened to me as a young entrepreneur just a
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few years into founding my core business, ENTIRE PRODUCTIONS.
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This is from my book, RELENTLESS Homeless Teen, to Achieving The Entrepreneur Dream.
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Starting on page 123- Chapter 10, debuts my Sleep.
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At nine months pregnant. I made my debut with the Oakland East Bay Symphony with a crowd of 2000 before.
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The orchestra began the haunting introduction to my sleep.
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A song I had written hand on my swollen belly.
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I began to sing. You came to me in a dream last night,
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how lovely it was.
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It told me you loved me,
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Become your world, didn't have me.
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And slowly on life, I know there'll be a time and place.
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A love won't feel like such a waste.
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Til' then I'll still here in my sleep, alone.
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I wasn't debuting as a violinist, but as a vocalist.
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The entire orchestra was playing a song that I wrote.
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I was shaking and not in the best voice, but loved that I was performing
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this piece with my unborn baby inside.
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I could imagine telling him about the performance when he was older, showing
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photos from that night, pushing the hair back from his sweet face while
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singing the song acapella for him.
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As we went into the chorus, my baby kicked and I knew he could
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feel the music all around us.
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I caught his tiny foot and massaged it back to rest.
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At 37 weeks pregnant, I began to feel contractions and reported to the hospital.
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The maternity nurse called my ob gyn.
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She was told to give me a shot of morphine and send me home.
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I turned down the shot and returned home without seeing a doctor.
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Why would they offer morphine to a woman over nine months pregnant?
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I was so sick and miserable that I sent eight year old
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Bennett to stay with a friend. The sickness lingered for two excruciating days, and at one point I became so
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weak that I had to roll off the couch and drag myself to the bathroom.
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I couldn't eat and was dying of thirst, drinking gallon after
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gallon of water with no relief.
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Monday came and I crawled to the car and somehow made it to my
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doctor's office on autopilot. She passed a sonogram over my.
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And I waited for her report. The silence shot a wave of fear through me.
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You can't find a heartbeat. I asked in the freeless voice, you need to get to the hospital.
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My doctor said, can you get yourself there or should I drive you?
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The hospital I was supposed to go to was 30 minutes away, but
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there was an emergency room. Just steps from her office.
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I was delirious from pain and confusion, so I didn't ask why I waited in the
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doctor's office for Greg to pick me up as she passed me in the hallway
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on the way to see other patients. We sped over in his pickup every bump twisting my tortured body with
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pain, sheer grit, carried me into the hospital and upped the maternity floor.
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I whispered my name to the clerk and passed out onto the gurney.
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A nurse pulled me out of my clothes and into a hospital gown, hooking me
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to a bank of monitors, beeps, blips.
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It was all like a dream fading in and out.
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Voices in the room. A tall Indian doctor entered and examined me.
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"Oh, No heartbeat." he said in a soft and wilting tone.
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Almost musical. "So sorry. No heartbeat."
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"So sorry." I faded away.
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Stirring to hear one nurse ask another 14 vials of blood.
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Are you sure? When I woke again, Jeremy was standing at the foot of my bed.
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If my brother is here, it must be bad.
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I turned and threw up a thick, oily, black substance.
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Jeremy held his phone to my ear. I'm sorry, my mother's voice said, "I love you, Tasha."
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I opened my mouth to reply, but nothing came out.
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If my mom's calling with those words, I must be dying for sure.
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The information came in, pieces, protein in her urine, blood pressure 135/110.
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Liver failure. Kidney failure.
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The brain shuts down with major organ failure.
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You can't make basic decisions like calling 9 1 1 or demanding to go
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to the emergency room 20 feet from your gynecologist's office door.
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"But what about my baby?" I asked. The hospital gave me a strong dose of magnesium to prevent a stroke
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and Pitocin to induce labor. I lay for hours waiting to give birth early in the morning
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of March 4th, Aidan was born.
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Weighing eight pounds, five ounces, and 21 inches long.
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Although his lips were a cold shade of blue and his skin jaundice.
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Aidan was absolutely beautiful.
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He had a full head of brown, curly hair in the tiniest elegant fingers.
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I held him briefly before falling back to sleep for the next 24 hours.
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We all held baby Aidan. Greg and his parents, Bennett and my dad.
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Then they took my sweet baby away.
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My health got worse. I was visited by a revolving door of grief, counselors and doctors
10:12
of every discipline, nephrologists, perinatologists, hematologists,
10:17
and occasionally my OB- gyn.
10:21
I felt nothing. No pain, no fear, no sadness.
10:27
I could not eat. I could not cry.
10:30
I could barely speak, and was only able to sit from a straw held to my lips.
10:35
Family and friends filtered in and out of the room.
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My dad stood guard to make sure no one lingered too long.
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Flicka brought me a boom box and a stack of CDs.
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Nurses drew blood every four hours to the point where they had to start
10:51
looking to my feet for usable vein.
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One doctor mentioned dialysis, talking about it as if I wasn't even in the room.
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She's not going on dialysis. My dad insisted we're going to figure this out.
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He knew I was unable to advocate for myself and began asking more pointed
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questions, pushing back, making sure I was a priority, and not just rolling over to
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the best guesses and whims of the medical.
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At some point, I decided I needed to try to get up and walk.
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My friend Rebecca was there and she helped me sit up and swing my legs over the
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side of the bed holding my catheter bag so it wouldn't get tangled in my feet.
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Crisis reveals who your real friends are.
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I tried to stand, but my legs were spaghetti crumbling
11:44
under the slightest weight. Rebecca plopped me in a wheelchair and took me for a spin around the hospital.
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After a week, it was time to be discharged.
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The ride home was surreal. Everything felt dangerous.
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Traffic zooming around me, tall buildings looming, ready to crush my
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bones, to dust everything, a threat in my most weak and vulnerable state.
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Greg helped me into my apartment. We were never married, nor did we live together at this point, but a
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new kind of romance began to take. Sweeter, deeper and more meaningful than before going through a disaster either
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pulls you apart or pushes you together.
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Thank God Greg Preston becoming my protector.
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Even though our baby was still born, he was still a father.
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The grief was massive, but we would find a way forward together.
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I wasn't capable for caring for Bennett yet, so my dad stayed to help.
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She was having a hard time coping, trying to wrap her young mind
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around all that had happened. Every night, she would wail and I would pull her close against me.
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Until we both found some level of comfort and peace.
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I was still afraid that death could strike at any moment in that beautiful space.
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Between awaken the sleep, I would jolt upright, gasping for breath,
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fearful and unsure of whether I was drifting off to sleep or dying.
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My father wanted to pursue a lawsuit against my OB Gyn for negligence.
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She knew about the protein in my labs, the high blood pressure signs
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that something was terribly wrong. Lawyers warned that even if we did win, we could only expect
13:33
a $30,000 settlement at best.
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We learned that was the maximum value of a baby that died before.
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Had he taken one breath outside of my womb, it would have been a much
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different story to me that would only add suffering to tragedy.
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So we let it go. The doctor knew what she did.
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She would have to live with that knowledge for the rest of her life.
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Aidan's bassinet was still set up next to my bed.
14:02
I would open my dresser drawer and look through his clothes, poo
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bear onesies and tiny shirts with rainbows and balloons on the.
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I knew I should be grieving, crying, screaming, kicking
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that dresser through the wall. I hurt for my dad.
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I hurt for Bennett, but as for my own loss, I could not feel a thing.
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Greg visited every day and a nurse acquaintance stopped
14:27
in to check my vital signs. When Greg mentioned holding a funeral for Aidan, I just pushed him away even though
14:34
he found a burial plot and chose a casket.
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I refused to set a. Finally, a mutual acquaintance named Liz walked in, sat before
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me in an atone, both loving and stern, said "Natasha, it's time."
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We are having Aidan's funeral on March 17th.
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When you are shellshocked and dead inside, sometimes you
14:58
need someone to take control. On the day before the funeral, Greg told me he was going to the morgue to see aid.
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I couldn't even fathom such a thing.
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Bennett caught wind of his plan and demanded to go.
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She wanted to see Aidan's toes and read, guess How Much I Love
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You and Goodnight Moon, to him.
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There was no way I could go through with that, but Bennett made me
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somehow, even at her young age, she understood that in order to heal
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and move on, we had to say goodbye.
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The morgue was dark and cold. Aidan's body was displayed inside his tiny casket, along with blankets from his baby
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shower, little stuffed lions and giraffes.
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Notes from family and friends. Bennett reached into the casket, picked Aidan up, and carried him over to me.
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I sat there, cradling him in my arms, staring at his beautiful face.
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I did not know what to expect other than the worst thinking that my baby
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would be frozen or stiff with rigor mortis, but he was not frozen, only
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cool blue, and so very peaceful.
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Bennett unbuttoned the legs of the onesie and pulled out his teeny
16:18
foot or fingers holding his toes.
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We took turns holding him reading the words.
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I love you high as I can reach across the river and over the hills.
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For the first time I was able to cry.
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Aidan's funeral reception was held on the waterfront at Bay Farm Island on St.
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Patrick's Day. A bag Piper played amazing grace, and over a hundred people
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showed up to help us say goodbye. A priest from the Episcopal Church performed the service.
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I sent word that I was burying my child and didn't wanna hear anything about God
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or Jesus, but he read from the Bible.
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Anyway, that really pissed me off.
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I told Bennett we could leave without watching the casket
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being lowered into the ground. She stiffened up.
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"No mama." She said, sternly, "I need to bury my brother.
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I have to see the casket go down."
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After the funeral, my dad had to return home before he left.
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He sat at my piano and played somewhere over the rainbow, a song we used to sing
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together when I was a kid, I tried to sing along, but my voice was weak and crack.
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It felt like music was over for me.
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I could not imagine standing on stage, smiling in the face of what had happened.
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It didn't feel like I could ever be happy again.
18:03
Greg stopped by the next day. We're going to the pool.
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He announced, get on your water shoes.
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You're going to walk with me. I still felt like a zombie, but went through the motion since
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I was too exhausted to object. The water felt good swirling around.
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Moving felt good. Feeling good, felt good.
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Greg got me swimming again after that swimming, focusing on breath
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and form all the metaphors of water and baptism and resurrection.
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I don't know if Greg thought of any of it that way, but he knew I had to get moving.
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"You know what Tash?" She said one day "You should come with me to masters.
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Masters was a practice group of hardcore swimmers made up of mostly previous
18:51
swim stars in high school and college. They did two a days practicing in the pool at 6:00 AM and
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again at five in the evening. Greg was the fastest swimmer in the master's group, the one to
19:04
beat and the nicest of them all.
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"I am the antithesis of you." I told him "I can't even finish one lap."
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How can I be in the masters?" "Just come with me.
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"He said, "You'll be fine." We went three or four times a week, and even though I was weak, everyone
19:23
encouraged me and welcomed me in. I needed community and over time I got stronger and faster.
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After one morning swim, Greg announced, "Hey, I signed you up for the city meet."
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"Oh hell no." I replied, you've lost your mind.
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I'm just now getting to where I don't freak out, sticking my head underwater.
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There's no way I can dive off the edge into four feet of water.
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Greg was unfazed. "You can do it."
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He said grinning. Watch and see there I was at the city spa meet in Alameda, California.
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Me the shy, snot-nosed kid from Iowa who couldn't even go under water.
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Wearing a swimsuit in public no less life is so insane.
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The pistol sounded. I sucked up courage and swam my best breaststroke and a
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beautiful but sluggish freestyle.
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I did not win. I did not swim fast.
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But one year after my son's death, I dove in and swam with all my heart.
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Victory is not the most important thing.
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It's the struggle and. The lessons we take from our scars, it's getting back up when life has kicked the
20:37
absolute shit out of you, and you cannot find a way to go on, but somehow you do.
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Somehow you learn to live again through love, support, friendship, laughter, and
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reaching down to help someone else along.
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That's a key part, helping others.
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I knew what I had to do. Make good on my promise.
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To Bobby Sharp. If you wanna know who Bobby Sharp is, you're going to need
21:08
to read the rest of the book. It's quite the adventure as I record this today on March 4th.
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It is the 20th anniversary of the death of my son, Aidan.
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Recently I had what I can only describe as a vision of Aidan.
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It wasn't him at any certain age or body.
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It was more like his essence or spirit.
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I don't typically use spiritual or metaphysical speech, but I can't come
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up with any other way to describe. He was running around happy and turned into Steph Curry, which I
21:42
thought was funny because knowing his dad and his energy and athleticism,
21:47
that didn't surprise me one bit. I'll leave you with this.
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As entrepreneurs, we love the ups and downs of figuring
21:54
stuff out in our businesses. We want to scale and grow both our companies and our.
21:59
We meet each other at events and don't even scratch the surface,
22:03
but there's so much more beneath. I'm not saying that we start off stating our worst case nightmares, mid
22:09
handshake, but perhaps we start to go intentionally deeper with each touchpoint
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after, and perhaps one day you too will want to tell the story of your
22:20
life in the hopes of cathartic express.
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Helping others and ultimately leaving a legacy after you're long
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gone from this physical world.
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Thank you so much. Thank you so much for listening.
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I hope you loved the show. If you did, please subscribe.
22:39
Also, if you haven't done so yet, please leave a review.
22:43
Where you're listening to this podcast now, I'm Natasha Miller and you've been
22:48
listening to FASCINATING ENTREPRENEURS.
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