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It’s hard to believe that two years ago today my brother Oliver passed away at the age of 28. I had been home only a week after graduating college and going on a retreat. Yet I felt lucky to come home to the fragile and frail arms of my older brother Oliver. The arms that used to punish and hurt me as we fought growing up were thin and weak. I gave him a hug gingerly, not wanting to hurt him. I wish he could have been able to fly to California for my commencement like he was planning on before, but it was impossible because of his weakness.

Oliver and I on a bench in Mexico during a family Caribbean cruise, only weeks before his diagnosis. Apparently I was saying something pretty funny or pretty stupid since he’s laughing.

During the last week of his life I remember a few moments very vividly. On the Sunday after I got back there was a blockage in one of his fluid tubes, and he wasn’t able to get hydrated for a few minutes. All of a sudden, he fell unconscious and unresponsive. We kept trying to wake him up, but he wouldn’t wake up. My mom was freaking out, which scared me, since she had always been with him and knew what was normal and what wasn’t. I mean, we all knew that this could be it, and that it was his time very soon, but I guess once it gets to that moment you don’t want to let go. My aunt Edith was visiting us from the Philippines where she is a pastor there. She’s told me about performing miracles and healing people but I was very skeptical (Yeah, I know, you think I should believe my own aunt, but it was hard). She starts praying for him, calling on the power of Jesus Christ and yelling at Satan to get out. Weird noises and ululations spring from her mouth and later I understand that to be the language of tongues (which also weirded me out back then and admittedly a little now, too). Pretty soon after her intense prayer, we see that the hydration tube is dripping again and the blockage is unclogged. Moments afterward, Oliver wakes up. We are all relieved and so happy. Was it truly a miracle? A result of the prayer, or just an inevitable unclogging of the tube? I don’t have the absolute answer, but I believe in miracles. I believe I witnessed one.

We had gone to Galveston (I think) to go fishing, and I guess he was a little bored that night, or at least uninterested in taking silly photos.

The other memory I treasure from that week was the one night that my mom entrusted me to spend the night with Oliver in the living room. He was sleeping downstairs because it took so much energy to climb the stairs to his room. Mainly I just needed to help him to the bathroom in the middle of the night because he couldn’t get up or sit down by himself. It was such a weird feeling to be able to lift my brother (maybe 80 or 90 pounds at this point) with such ease when I remember him always towering over me and being bigger and stronger than me. I was humbled by the way he allowed me to take care of him, and now I connect it to reading Tuesdays with Morrie when the Morrie allowed himself to be completely pampered (because he had to) in his last weeks as well.

No words were really spoken that night, but it was one of my last nights with him alive, and I didn’t really know what to say anyway. It was what it was. Two brothers together, now the younger one supporting the older one. A role reversal where I did my best to repay him for paving the way for me, being an example and guiding me. He was always a solid rock I could count on, so I did the best I could to be there for him. Even for one night.

Oliver, Randy and I hanging out during Christmas break 2004.

I could write more, but I think I’ll save some tears for a time of quiet reflection later today. To all our family, friends, and Oliver’s friends: Thanks for being there for us, we love you dearly and will never forget the tremendous support you gave us throughout his illness and especially dating back to two years ago this week. I hope you can each take a moment today or this week to pause and reflect on Oliver’s life and death and how it has affected you, and still is today.

Before I end with an e-mail Oliver wrote to his whole high school (where he taught science class) about his diagnosis and treatment, I just want to write an open message to him.

Oliver,

Two years later there are still really no words I can use to express my gratefulness, gratitude and love I still have for my older brother. You were always the one I could count on, who would be there no matter how big or small the problem I had was. I guess it shouldn’t have been a surprise when you became a teacher since you were always ’schooling’ me - whether in mario kart or about real life: school, girls, how to treat people. I still miss you every day, and perhaps the most today more than any other day of the year. Though you aren’t with us, you still speak to me daily through the example you set, the way you followed your heart has allowed me to follow mine. I love you.

Always your little brother,

Darwin

 

I think the way Oliver would like to be remembered most vividly is not the weeks or months before his passing, but rather the way he fought so fervently against his cancer, especially in the beginning. If you read the rest of the entry, you can get a sense of his ‘voice.’

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Today is my second to last day at Microsoft. This may come as a surprise to many of you who I haven’t talked to in awhile. Why am I leaving? Well, the answer to that question is complex, but I’ll attempt to explain. Up front, I want to say that I really respect Microsoft as a company and overall I have had a really good experience there. I learned a lot and I met so many awesome people. That’s what I’m going to miss the most, the people (like my officemate Gary). It’s kind of like breaking up with a girlfriend. No really Microsoft, it’s not you, it’s me. That being said - clearly everything wasn’t fine and dandy at work, or I wouldn’t have left.

 A big part of the reason I’m leaving is the fact that I’ve had 6 different managers at Microsoft. Some of them I really liked and some could have been better. There are a lot of re-org’s where management and group structure changes at Microsoft, but my experience isn’t typical. I’ve bounced around on a lot of different projects, but never really found one I was deeply passionate about. While I could have asked for a new project, or just changed teams within Microsoft, I didn’t feel like I could truly follow my heart at such a big company, and I’ve been yearning for more.

While this book wasn’t the only thing that made me want to leave, it did have a pretty significant impact on how I think about the world and what’s important. I may have to write a more detailed post another time, but basically, I didn’t know what the point of me working at Microsoft for 2, 5 or even 10 years would be. [Note: I am in no way trying to bash Microsofties or other people in the tech industry, the following is simply my personal opinion] Yes, I would be creating cool software and making lots of money, but to what end would all my work be towards? Right now I work for Live Search Mobile which creates software for mobile phones - particularly those phones that have mobile internet. The target audience for our products are power-users, early-adopter and business professionals - basically rich Americans.  And the U.S. is still one of the richest countries in the world. The way I see it, the work I do ultimately is targeted to make life easier for the richest of the rich.

I know that indirectly this can help people, and I realize that if there isn’t anybody innovating then no progress will be made. But for me, I like making direct, visible and tangible impact on the things I am truly passionate about. While I’ve always had a heart for the poor and wanted to help people, I think the moment I realized that I want to dedicate the next season of my life to fight global poverty was when I read the my pastor’s first blog post on fighting poverty. The Sarah McLachlan video in that post had me in tears. 6 months ago I realized I wanted to start making a difference in this world. I didn’t know where to start yet, so I did lots of internet research, read lots of books and talked to as many people as I could about this. Microsoft often has speakers visit to give lectures, and one that caught my eye was when Muhammad Yunus, winner of the 2006 Nobel Peace Prize and basically the founder of Microfinance, came to speak. His talk on social business (how for-profit companies can help eliminate poverty) really inspired me, but I still didn’t know where to start.

It wasn’t until I was separately approached by two different people in Seattle to gauge my interest in helping to starting two distinct ventures to fight global poverty. One would be a non-profit foundation  and the other would be a for-profit business with a focus to empower people in developing nations. While discussions about both opportunities are still in the early stages and no offers or committments have been made yet, this opened my eyes to the possibility of doing work outside of Microsoft. Even if I don’t end up with either of these ventures, I know I will eventually find something similar to dedicate my life to, and I wasn’t finding it at Microsoft. I realized that the only thing that was keeping me at Microsoft was the security it offers. Money.

Now I am extremely blessed to be in the position I’m in.  Having a Stanford Computer Science degree and experience at Microsoft gives me the job security that I could likely find some kind of job to pay the bills if I ever run out of money. I have been saving some money since I started working, and I figure that if I’m frugal I can probably last the summer without completely draining my savings paying for rent, car insurance, my car loan, healthcare, food and my beloved student loans. Most people wouldn’t do this - leave one job intentionally without another job already lined up. But, looking at this quote I wrote on my Facebook profile back in college, I realized I’ve totally been a hypocrite.

For me, nothing is worth doing half-hearted. For anything important to me, I will put my heart and soul into it. I have a “go all the way, balls to the wall, never give up” attitude that originates from my old soccer coach, but I apply it to all the things that I truly care about. Live life passionately, or it’s not worth living.

I’m a different person than the person I was back in March 2006 when I interviewed for this job. Back then my older brother Oliver was still alive and I was more passionate about technology and making money. After his passing, I changed the way I look at the world. Luckily, my parents have a new perspective as well. As I’ve shared before, Oliver chose to be a teacher despite his Chemical Engineering degree (and my parents weren’t that thrilled). But he made the right choice to follow his heart since he only had 3 years to work before he was diagnosed with stage 4 colon cancer. Now my parents understand the importance of doing something your passionate about, and they fully support me in my decision. What a blessing.  

I don’t know exactly when it happened, but at some point I stopped being passionate about the work I do at Microsoft. It wasn’t my co-workers or my environment, but when I wasn’t able to be excited about going to work everyday (and I know you can’t really do it everyday), I should have realized I shouldn’t be doing it anymore. Perhaps I’m an idealist, because I know that the majority of people would say they aren’t passionate about their jobs and work is just work - it pays the bills. But at least for now I will maintain my idealism, my belief that God created me unique with particular passions and abilities. I believe there is a place for me to find the intersection of my passions and my talents, and now I’m on a quest to find it.

I already have contacts with various social start-ups, foundations and non-profits and a few informational interviews scheduled. I’m always looking for more, so if you have contacts to pass on, do let me know! I plan to intentionally take some time off to reflect, discern, research and really think about what I should do next with my life. I want to cast a wide net and consider all possibilities. My first choice is to stay in Seattle, though many people predict I will end up back in the Bay Area. I don’t even know if I’ll stay in the United States. My friend Adam is trying to get me to move to Japan with him in the fall, and I’m open to working for NGOs or Microfinance Institutes in Asia, Africa, Latin America or South America.

There are a lot of places out there…

I feel like I’m at a unique point in my life. God has blessed me with youth, health, education and freedom. I’m not responsible for anyone else besides myself. I hope to one day get married and have a family, and when that time comes I probably won’t be able to travel around the world to different third world countries (unless my future wife also wants to do that, which would be sweet!). So that leaves no time like the present. One of my colleagues at M$ told me how he lived in Honduras for a year when he was 24 working at a Microfinance Institute and he said it was one of the best experiences of his life.

For the short term, I’m just taking some time to relax, reflect and research. As for travel my first stop is going to be the Grand Canyon. Other places I plan to go are: Bay Area, Houston, New York City / Boston, etc, Hawaii, and hopefully some other countries eventually. If you have suggestions, do let me know :).

It’s a scary and exciting time for me, but I trust that God will guide me to the right place.

Update: I heard the video in my pastor’s blog doesn’t work anymore, so I added it below. Watch it. Trust me. You will be moved.

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What a day. I woke up at 5am so we could get to the starting line by 6:15am and make sure we were ready when the race started at 7:00am. We had a really late dinner and didn’t get home till midnight. And I couldn’t really go to sleep right away anyway because I was up till 3am the night before. Note to self: be sure to get more sleep and have a better sleep schedule before your next race.

Kenneth and I are really lucky we even got to run in the race. I thought I had signed up online, but I realized I never got a confirmation email, nor was my card ever charged, so I think the web form broke when I signed up back in February (but silly me I never double checked that). So Kenneth and I are basically begging the registration people to let us run even though they were sold out (How you get 7,000 people signed up to run 13.1 miles is beyond me). But Kenneth worked his magic and we got two spots from these two girls who dropped out. Kenneth would be “Heather” and I would be “Cyndi.” Sweet. Luckily, they whited out the girls’ names on our bibs and we got our timing chips reassigned to our names.

Derek, me and Kenneth. If you look closely you can see how I wrote my name over the whited out ‘Cyndi’ while Kenneth’s name ‘Heather’ is still slightly visible.

The course was awesome - going through downtown Vancouver and then all the way around Stanley Park with some absolutely gorgeous scenery. Thank God that the weather was nice - about 40 or 50 degrees with some sunshine most of the way. Man 13 miles was a lot longer than I thought, though. The other guys kept me going and we had a pretty brisk pace for the first 6 miles or so, we were running about 8 and a half minute miles, on pace to finish under 2 hours. But around the 7 mile marker I started to hit a wall. Both ankles were already getting sore, and now the ’stitches’ in my right side were pretty painful and I couldn’t really take even moderately deep breaths. I had to slow my pace down pretty dramatically and I’m thankful Derek and Kenneth stayed with me and kept motivating me to keep going.

To get an idea of what it was like to run in the race, here’s a photo I found on flickr of the Full Marathon start.

Here’s an overhead view of some half-marathon runners. [last 2 photos courtesy: thelastminute]

Honestly though - there were times when I wasn’t sure if I was going to make it. Like I said before - it’s more of a mental and psychological challenge. I just couldn’t let failure be an option. And when I didn’t think I could keep going, I used a couple different tactics to stay motivated. I would play songs in my head to keep me upbeat and psyched up. Good thing I was singing Eye of the Tiger at karaoke on Friday, so it was still fresh in my mind. Another great song was the Star Wars main theme. It was the same song I would blast in my dorm room right before I left to go take an final exam. That worked pretty well. Of course thinking of all the encouragement given to me by friends and family was great (so thanks for the kind words, guys!) made it easier.

The three of us exhausted after the race.

But overall, there were times when I really wanted to give up and none of the above tactics worked. Besides praying to Jesus for strength (which definitely helped, too), it was thinking of Oliver that helped me go on. I thought about all the pain he endured through his surgeries, treatments and chemotherapy. Any minor pains in my feet, legs or side was really nothing compared to that. I was inspired how he persevered through all that and that helped put things in perspective. Lots of people had friends or family standing beside the roads cheering them on. I pictured Oliver standing on the sidelines cheering me on, making fun of me, or just smiling as he watched me go by. I would imagine him being right around the next corner and when I would see him I felt like I could keep going. During the last mile I saw him at the finish line, just waiting for me to meet him there and give him a big sweaty hug.

Although I know these visions were all in my imagination, doesn’t make them less real to me. I had two great friends I consider as brothers run with me today and we finished together at 2:08:31 (much faster than I thought I would do). But in the race of life, I’ve had a lot of people help keep me going and inspire me. No single person has had more of an impact on me than Oliver. I’m still running this race of life, and I believe he’ll be waiting there for me at the finish line.

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I’m about to take off and drive the wonderful 2+ hours to the glorious land of Vancouver, British Columbia. This magical place has amazing Asian food (esp. in Richmond), beautiful architecture downtown, is home to my favorite places of Stanley Park and Granville Island. But I won’t be enjoying all of that this weekend. I’m on a mission. The goal is to run 21.097494 kilometers.

[photo courtesy of kk+]

Remember when I was talking about training for the Vancouver Half Marathon back in February? Well, the time has finally come. My training has been streaky: it started off well, and then I got sick and the weather in Seattle is not quite conducive to outdoor running (at least not for a Texas boy). I loathe running on treadmills. While they’re easy on the feet, I just get absolutely bored, and I feel trapped or like a hamster in a wheel. Unfortunately, the Microsoft gym doesn’t have as beautiful scenery as the Stanford gym Green Lake does. So it wasn’t until the beginning of April that I started slowly training again. I was a little worried, but last weekend I was able to power through a 10-mile run through the wonderful Seattle rain.

It’s not going to be easy, and honestly it’s more of a mental and psychological challenge than a physical challenge if you ask me. But I believe God will give me strength to get through. I was telling myself last weekend as my fee, ankles and knees were in pain: this pain is really nothing compared to the pain that Oliver went through. I guess he’s still inspiring me in new ways.

Since 13 miles didn’t motivate me to get a regular training schedule, I might have to raise the bar. Depending on how I feel after tomorrow’s run, I’m considering signing up for the Seattle Full Marathon. I’ll have more time this summer, and Seattle weather is absolutely gorgeous in the summer and perfect for running. If I do that, I’ll probably try to raise money for Oliver’s memorial fund which supports colon cancer research at M.D. Anderson Cancer Center in Houston. More details to come if i decide to actually go through with this.

Luckily I’m running the half marathon with my two friends Derek and Kenneth. I’m excited to hang out with these guys and go through the pain together. May the Force be with us.

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30 years old? I thought I just turned 24 back in February?

It’s not me. My older brother Oliver’s 30th birthday is today. 30 is a big year. Something tells me that Oliver wouldn’t make a big deal about it though. He’d be casual about it, probably still playing Nintendo with his friends or working on his lesson plans. Yet, birthdays always make me reflect. I wonder what life would be like if he never got sick. But ideas like that are pretty silly. Besides, I’m afraid of where I might be because through his cancer and death, my family grew so much closer together, and more importantly, closer to God. I might be able to call him up and wish him a happy birthday, but it wouldn’t mean that much, I would probably still take him for granted along with the rest of my family. But those 3 years after he got sick, our relationship deepened in a way that might never have happened even if he lived to be 80. So it’s with a bittersweet joy that I celebrate his 30th birthday, even if he’s not here to celebrate it with me.

A photo from Christmas 2005 with my hair at its longest.

Reading over the speech I gave at his funeral, it makes me think about who I was back then and how I’ve changed. I sound very detached and matter-of-fact in it. I was still in shock back then and not really connecting with my emotions: the pain and sadness. I was hiding behind a facade of strength and Christian aphorisms about how everything is okay because God’s in control. He has a plan.

While I believe these things to be true, I still struggle with my humanness. I am still sad today. I broke down in tears on the way home yesterday (and yes the 520 traffic did want to make me cry, but it was more than the traffic). I miss my brother. I feel cheated out of having a friend, mentor, role-model and someone I could always count on. Oliver was a high school teacher despite having a Chemical Engineering degree. He loved teaching High School science. He was always teaching me. It was tough being 6 years younger though. We were never really in the same stage of life.

I had one week together with my brother when we were both college graduates before he passed away. By then he was very skinny and weak. We didn’t talk too much. There weren’t really any words left to be said. He said he was glad I made it home (after going on a post-graduation retreat with Intervarsity). Though he was at the end of his life and doctors said he could go any day, he promised me he’d wait till after my retreat because he wanted me to go to it. He kept his promise. I gave him a hug when I saw him and I was afraid I might break him. My older brother who once towered over me and would beat me up as a kid, who I feared and respected, I was stronger than him.

My sister Adrienne, Oliver and I at the hospital in April 2005.

Physically I was stronger, but inside I felt so weak and helpless. It was Oliver who exuded a quiet strength stemming from an inner peace. He knew that it was soon time for God to take him home. He was ready. I wasn’t. I wanted to cling on to his life as long as possible. I was holding out for a miracle. He believed in miracles, and that God could save him. But he just didn’t think it was God’s plan. He accepted that and was okay. I have no idea how he did that. I cannot even begin to fathom how he must have felt. Yet I take solace from his example even today. He was facing death, yet he faced it confidently, peacefully, in a way. And I look at myself panicking over such silly things like girls or jobs or money today. He’s still teaching me.

I guess it’s hard for me to celebrate his life without reliving some of the intense last memories with him. Though I know they are fading and will only fade more as years go on, those are just the details. The important stuff will stay with me until the day I hope to see him again. His voice. His smile. His laugh. They are all mine. Often my parents would confuse us on the phone, or his friends would think I was him. When they watch my face, hear me laugh, they tell me how I have his facial expressions and his laugh as well. But more than these physical things, I hope to always carry with me the love he had for others and the love he had for God. All because he’s no longer on earth with us doesn’t mean he stops being my mentor, my role model, my friend, my brother.

Before the 2005 Rose Bowl where Texas beat Michigan.

Happy 30th Birthday Oliver! I miss you and I love you.

P.S. I hope the Rockets beat the stupid Jazz this year!

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I know that many of you have been anxiously asking me what this countdown is all about since I started posting it on my status 10 days ago. Well, the suspense is finally over, because I’ve been waiting to re-launch my new blog (with more frequent updates) here at this new address (so please update your links on your blogs), and I figured I’d announce a pretty big day for me (well kind of).

[photo courtesy of kk+]

It’s 90 days left until the Vancouver Marathon on May 4, which I plan to run with my friend Derek. Oh, I guess I should probably clarify that we’re only running the half-marathon. Yeah, I know it’s kind of cheating to say I’m running a marathon when I’m only going to run a half-marathon. But today marks the first day of my 90 day training period. I’m following Hal Higdon’s Half Marathon Training Program for novice runners. It’s a 12 week program, and I have 13 weeks, so I guess I’ll do the first week twice or something. It starts off with about 10 miles/week and ramps up to around 25 miles/week which really isn’t that bad. I mean I played soccer for 10 years when I was little and during most of High School. And my freshman year I was even on the cross-country team. But yeah, that was a long time ago. So I’ll be posting my progress here every once in awhile. Feel free to comment or IM me and ask my how my training is going. I’m definitely going to need support and accountability to stay on track.

I’ve been meaning to get in better shape since I got out of college, and I’ve done alright, but this is a chance to really Go Big or Go Home. So to motivate myself I just put out a pretty difficult goal and I know I gotta get there. I also wanted to run for a special cause. I’m not going to talk about it much until March when I start serious fundraising, but I want to raise money in honor of my older brother Oliver who passed away from colon cancer in 2006 at age 28. So when I start raising money in March, I’ll post some more about the Oliver Cruz Memorial Fund which goes to benefit colon cancer research at MD Anderson Cancer Center in Houston where he was treated.

I know that there will be some tough times and some pain I’ll go through in training and during the actual half-marathon itself. But I know that this pain is nothing compared to what Oliver faced. His life inspired me to do something great with mine. This is a small step. I’m just getting started.

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Earlier this year, I was asked by my church to write a little story about my faith and how I found the church. I wrote two pieces, one about my first impression at Quest, and another about my personal testimony - how God has influenced my life. My pastor messaged me today that he was gonna post my testimony on our church’s community blog. I figured that if it’s up there, I might as well mention that here.

My faith has been growing rapidly the past few years and moving to Seattle without my college fellowship (Intervarsity) around, I wasn’t sure where I’d get my spiritual support. Though I was raised in the Catholic Church, I don’t think I really knew God personally until my sophomore year in college. That year in 2003, my older brother Oliver was diagnosed with terminal colon cancer at age 25. The doctors said he had about 2 years to live. My family was in shock, and I was struggling to find answers. . .

You can read the rest of my story here.

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