Honoring My Superman Through Service
By: Rachel Bazan

When I was younger, I would have quickly and easily described my parents as superheroes – my dad was Superman, and my mom was Wonder Woman. Dad knew the answers to everything and fought for justice every day, while Mom had an uncanny ability to find more than 24 hours in a day, which allowed her to manage both our family’s needs and a full-time job. I would think, how could a kid be so lucky to have these two as parents, and how do I get a cape myself?

My dad, Nick, was a highly competitive person and instilled in my brother and me that we were supposed to give our best in all things. He told us that outcomes may not always fall our way, but as long as we gave 100% effort, we could be proud of anything we did. No matter what we faced, “Bazans never give up.” His competitive spirit manifested itself in a love of sports and learning, which he and I shared. Some of my favorite memories with my dad include: taking me to games at Wrigley Field in the summertime, coaching my 8th grade basketball team, and deeply discussing history or politics. He was never really stumped or without an opinion, and I reveled in the rare instance when I found a trivia fact he didn’t know the answer to.

My dad also had a strong sense of service that permeated all facets of his life. As an attorney, he took his role seriously and sought to share his knowledge with his clients. No matter their position in life, they would leave his office with a better understanding of what they were due under the letter of the law. He was an active member of our church, advanced through the ranks of the Knights of Columbus, and was always ready with a helping hand, a joke, or a word of advice for anyone he met in the community. 

In May 2019, my dad lost a 22-year battle with prostate cancer. My family lost our Superman. In the months that followed, I faced all the challenges – both major and minor - that come with grief: 

• How do I make sure my other parent and the rest of my family are okay? 

• Who will be my sounding board and source of advice when I face a big decision? 

• Who can I talk to about that ridiculous call from last night’s game? 

I never knew it was possible to miss someone as deeply as I miss him. But even on my saddest days, I had his voice in the back of my head telling me that I would eventually adjust to my ne normal without him, if anything because Bazans never give up.

I am fortunate for the outpouring of love I received from family and friends around the time of my dad’s death, but I wished I could find others who were experiencing grief as I was. Finally I found the Grief & Loss Center online, and I remember pacing during lunch, mustering up the courage to call the Center with a request to join a grief group. That nervousness now seems so silly because in that group first session, Laurie was warm, compassionate and a beacon of hope. While all grief journeys are unique, those in the Young Adult group understand what it is like to face both the challenges and accomplishments during this stage of life -- without the loved one that has been by your side for so many years. As our own team of “Get Its”, this community is a haven for me and my peers, often an overlooked demographic among grief support groups. I am just one of many grateful beneficiaries of the Young Adult group that Laurie, Mike and Will established years ago. 

I was asked to join the GLC board last summer, soon after the first anniversary of my dad’s death. The Center’s development efforts were derailed with the cancellation of its annual Celebrate Hope Dinner & Auction scheduled to take place in April. The board was tasked with rethinking how we do things to ensure that the Center could sustain itself through the pandemic, when so many in our communities are experiencing loss and need GLC more than ever. Fortunately, individual and group sessions were never interrupted and continue to provide hope and understanding for all those that need it, just in a virtual format. Serving on the GLC board as the Treasurer is a way in which I honor my dad’s life and his commitment to service, and hopefully it puts me one step closer to earning that cape myself.