Kevin "Stenny" Stenstrom

Originally written June 1, 2007:

My father died of leukemia in June, 2005. I had done 3 events with TNT in his honor prior to his passing because he is a true hero of mine, and I wanted him to know the effect he had on me and help him in his fight the best way I knew how.

Since his death, I have run 2 TNT events in his memory because he had such a positive influence on my life and TNT is a positive organization. The stories I have heard from others have reminded me that all the leukemia/lymphoma statistics are very informative but the personal connections really bring it home.

This attachment was the eulogy I gave at my dad's funeral. We all know people like my dad who fight so positively throughout theirlife. I thank God everyday that I have people like my dad in my life, and it is a great reminder of why what we are doing through TNT is so important. Please use as you see fit. GO TEAM!!

Stenny

'Reflections of Dad'

My dad's 75 year journey reminds me of the Frank Capra film' 'lt's a Wonderful Life'. By society's standards, Dave Stenstrom's life was not a success story.' He was not famous and he was not rich. But, he touched everyone he knew or met. ln fact, I would bet that everyone in this church today has been touched by my dad. Our lives have Dave Stenstrom's imprint, and l think that is the true measure of success. We were and are blessed to have had him in our lives l think today, right now, we should celebrate that. So, I would like to share with you some thoughts from our family on my dad.

He was a man of many talents: Runner (a few years back), skier, golfer (albeit slow - more like the Art Carney ol golf), artist, musician (he liked the more obscure intrumenls like the accordion and fife); jokester (the king of puns); dancer (preferably ballroom or swing); superior whistler.
As kids growing up and even as adults, he was our biggest fan. He never forced us to do anything, yet let us try everything: baseball, football, soccer, kayaking, herpitology, acting, dancing and many more. Once l was in middle school, l was singing in a barbershop quartet chorus. My dad practically became a groupie, taking me to barbershop quartet concerts and buying albums of nationally known quartets. ln fact, his love for this music prevailed through the years. Just a few years ago, he was at a festival in Atlanta with my sister and brother-in-law that happened to have barber shop quartets singing. He planted himself in front ofthe stage and ended up talking to the singers as if HE had produced their albums. Dad could strike up a conversation with anybody.

When my brother and I were on the high school gymnastics team, mom and dad did not miss a meet. This could end up being a little embarrassing because in the deafening silence of concentration just prior to beginning your routine, you would hear a cheer from my dad, as if he had a megaphone strapped to his mouth, "GoMike!" And, when the routine was over, no matter if you had fallen off the pommelhorse or high bar a thousand times, you would hear, 'Good routine, Kevin, good routine.'

Before we entered college, the only college football games I can recall Dad walching were Michigan games (Go Blue!). Once we were in college, though, his favoite teams became the Universities of Massachussetts and New Hampshire, Boston College, and Holy Cross. My parents would travel every weekend, it would seem, to one of our school's games - supplying us with the best tailgate party on the field. lf any of our schools played each other, they would sit on one side of the stadium for a half and then switch to the other side for the rest of the game.

One summer, after I had returned from my annual ROTC training, l jokinglyasked him if he had figured out the fall's football itinerary. He said, "Come out to the porch and I will show you - Sept 1, we will be at UMASS, Sept 7, we wil be at BC" ... I had returned from ROTC training around June 24 - more than 2 months beforefootball season began. Like I said, our biggest fan.
Even when our interests did not suit his tastes, he went along. My brother Mike has aptly described our dad as more or less a "city guy'. Yet, he took the time to takeus fishing as young kids, which started a love of the outdoors that has carried to this day for my brother. Being a city guy, you would think he would have regretted this. No, he embraced it, even to the point of my parents joining my brother in a duck blind on a cold November dawn in Maine. Once again, our biggest fan.

My dad was also the consummate optimist. He had one of the most positive attitudes of anyone I had ever met. When mom and dad came to visit us in Hawaii inMarch, he was already having to rely heavily on a cane for balance and support. But, every time we past a beautiful Hawaii golf course, he would say, 'Boy, I hope I get to play golf again!" And, all of us kids witnessed these past few months dad planning a trip to Switzerland, if only he could convince mom to go. His optimism lasted until the end. A couple of weeks ago, just prior to having his pacemaker put in, he reminded me that he wanted me to send him a ukelele. "Now remember', he said, "don't forget to send instructions on how to play it.' The man had diabetes, a blood disorder, non-hodgkins lymphoma, had undergone quintuple bypass surgery, survived congenital heart failure, and was about to receive a pacemaker, yet still was ready to learn a new instrument. Now, THAT is positive thinking!

On another note, dad was annoyingly methodical. The man researched everything - from buying cars to toenail clippers. He was infamous for reading every word on every plaque on every monument or in every museum. While visiting theSmithsonian Museums as kids, dad was at least 5 exhibits behind us in every museum. lf we hadn't pulled him along, I think he would still be there.

He was a measure twelve times, cut once, kind of guy. As new homeowners, every one of his children was subiected to his drawn-to-scale graph paper landscape designs for our property (and, secretly we loved him for it).

Once, while visiting Nate and Beth in Atlanta without mom, Dad offered to paintdoors and trim in their recently purchased home. Nate and Beth returned from thestore a couple of hours later, expecting that the doors and maybe some of the trimwould be complete. What they found instead was one perfectly primed door with no signs of even one drop of paint landing anywhere but lhat door.

Finally, we loved my dad's laugh because he loved to laugh. He was a connoisseur of Red Skelton, Jonathan Wnters, The Muppet Show, and RoadRunner/Wle E. Coyote cartoons.

Dad was our hero for the way he lived his life. He was our quiet counsel- a man of true honor and integrity, who didn't need to boast about it. He walked the walk instead of talking the talk
His spritiual compass never wavered and always pointed to true north. His prayer life was one of the strongest I had ever witnessed. As Marsha, my sister-in-law, observed, "He's connected." In a conversation I had with him just a couple of days before he died, he said he was content - everyone has to go sometime and this is his time I said "And you know where you are going?" He said, 'That is what I am praying for.'' I think everyone in this church knows where dad went - straight up.

My dad touched us in so many ways, each time leaving a blessed indelible mark. Just like in the Frank Capra film, he has changed the world for the better by touching so many people's lives. His spirit will live within all of us I can't think of amore beautiful gift I have ever received from my dad.

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