Young soccer goalie’s final wish comes true

Among the tombstones and grave markers at Palm Northwest Mortuary and Cemetery is a small pedestal of polished black marble that became part of the landscape about a year ago. Etched in the marble on the left side of the base is the Golden State Warriors logo; on the right side, the Green Bay Packers.

Those were Lucas Ahlbach’s favorite teams, along with the Jammers, a Nevada Youth Soccer League team for which he tended goal with limited use of his left arm and hand. Lucas managed to keep the ball out of the net most of the time, until he got too fatigued to throw the parts of his body that still worked well in front of shots on goal.

Only then would his coaches take him out of the game. His soccer coaches and members of Lucas’ immediate family — his dad, Marty; his mom, Tiffany; his sister, Paige — were the only ones who knew how sick Lucas was.

When Lucas died, Paige wrote a poem.

“We shall meet again, in the place where there is no darkness …”

Paige Ahlbach’s poignant prediction is engraved on the back of the marble stone that marks her little brother’s final resting place.

Lucas Ahlbach, the youth soccer goalie, was 10 when he died Aug. 27, 2015, from a virulent rare brain and spinal cord cancer called Glioblastoma Multiforme. He spent the last two years of his life in and out of hospitals until doctors at Stanford said they couldn’t help him anymore.

When he was sent home to hospice care, Lucas helped plan his funeral.

This was a brave boy.

He called it his party. He decided what music would be played, who would speak, what pictures would be used for the video montage.

And when refreshments were served, Lucas Ahlbach wanted everybody to drink bacon-flavored soda.

His mom and dad said Lucas had an ornery sense of humor for one so young, and a way of making you smile.

So Marty Ahlbach found bacon-flavored soda on the internet, and it was served to Lucas’ party guests, and there were facial grimaces and contortions, because Lucas’ dad said the taste of bacon-flavored soda is pretty repulsive. But then everybody laughed, and it was as if Lucas was there.

Marty Ahlbach, a wine salesman for the Constellation Brands company, chuckled again when he shared that story at a local bagel shop Wednesday. It has been 14 months since his son died, and anecdotes about Lucas that make him smile help get him through his day.

Tiffany Ahlbach, a stay-at-home mom, still struggles to keep her emotions in compartments. She was wearing a purple T-shirt that said “Cancer Sucks.” Sometimes her voice cracks; oftentimes she cries. She finds comfort in discussing Lucas with other parents of cancer patients and victims she has met through social media support groups.

That’s how she met Massiel Merritt, whose daughter, Kassidy, has been fighting the ravages of Glioblastoma Multiforme since she was 15 and a catcher for the Centennial High softball team. Kassidy now is a student manager for the Utah State softball team; she spent the summer in Africa learning about wildlife conservation.

Tiffany Ahlbach said when Lucas was in remission and his treatment was going well, he met Kassidy Merritt at a 5k run named for her. Before Lucas died, he told his mother it would be neat if he could have his own 5k run, so other kids wouldn’t have to suffer so much.

The Lucas Ahlbach 5k and 1 Mile Fun Run, to be held in conjunction with the Pumpkinman Triathlon, starts at 7:30 a.m. Saturday at Wilbur Square Park in Boulder City.

In addition to perpetuating their son’s memory and raising funds for other young cancer patients, the Ahlbachs are hoping to raise awareness in childhood cancer by calling attention to grim facts listed under photos of Lucas on the handbill: that a child is diagnosed with cancer every two minutes; that less than 4 percent of federal funding is dedicated to childhood cancer research; that the chance of a child getting cancer is 1 in 285; that in the past 20 years, only three drugs have been developed to treat children with cancer.

Runners can sign up in advance at lucasrun.com. Nonrunners also can make a donation through the website, and I’ll bet Lucas Ahlbach’s mom and dad also will be happy to address any bacon-flavored soda inquiries, because they are remindful of a brave little boy who could make you smile.

Contact Ron Kantowski at rkantowski@reviewjournal.com or 702-383-0325. Follow @ronkantowski on Twitter.