I recently met two models of resilience who supercharged me
I like to start my day with a kvetch and a stretch. I get my aching mind going and then my aching body in gear. Yet as any “almost oldster” knows, resilience is the key to getting through life.
Recently — coincidentally on the same day — I met two models of resilience who supercharged me with inspiration and delight.
The first one I met was at dinner. My husband and I joined a long-ago work colleague who was in town with his wife. We had never before met the woman (whom I’ll call Linda for the sake of privacy). Linda is undergoing chemotherapy.
We spotted Linda first at the restaurant. She was wearing a funny, furry, floppy hat, making her hard to miss on a sunny day in a casual, all-you-can-eat sushi restaurant.
Even before we sat down and introductions were made, Linda rushed to say, “I have hair. Lots of hair, but I just got a massage, and my hair’s a mess. That’s why I’m wearing a hat.”
That hair comment was the only reference to Linda’s health made during the entire meal. The woman and her spouse were completely focused on the moment and the meal.
They were the most lively, joyous people I have spent an evening with in a long time. They spoke of their travels and the books they’re reading, and they peppered us with questions about our lives, work and interests.
Linda took the lead in ordering. She ordered sushi like she was preparing for a party of 20. The waiter even asked if more people were joining us and if he should move us to a larger table!
Smiling, she said, “No, I just love sushi.”
And, wow, could that woman eat sushi. I never saw anyone eat like she did. Gusto is too mild a word for the way she chowed down. I, who shudder at the sight of fish, cooked or raw, giggled as she oohed and aahed nonstop.
When the meal — including three kinds of mochi for dessert — ended, Linda jumped up and said, “Gotta go.”
I worried that she was sick from eating so much, but no, she explained, she had just gotten a notice that a package she ordered had just been delivered.
“I never was good at crafts,” she said, “I can’t knit or sew, but I just read about punch sewing, which is a dumbed-down craft. I’m going to try it. I’m making coasters.”
And with that, our ebullient new friend and her husband sped off into the night.
May we all, in the face of life-threatening disease, live so fully, getting massages, wearing outrageous hats, eating heartily and trying new projects. That’s resilience.
Two hours later, I headed over to a sleep laboratory for a sleep study. That’s where I met my second resilience inspiration.
In this instance, it was a young person — the 27-year-old technician who works the night shift at the sleep lab. She has the laborious job of attaching the bazillion sticky wires to patients’ heads and bodies to track their brain waves and breathing. And then she monitors them throughout the night.
Now, attaching those wires is no speedy task, and so Yolanda (not her real name) and I had a long time to talk. And talk we did. My young tech told me all about her life. She’s the mother of two, including one child who has a developmental disorder. She is in the middle of a second divorce, works full time and is going to nursing school.
Was she exhausted? Bitter? Struggling? No. No. No. Just the opposite. She was all spunk and joy. She told me proudly that her 8-year-old son had just learned to say “mama” and how much he loves dinosaurs. She told me how much she loves her job and about her pride in going back to school. She spoke of her gratitude toward her parents for helping with her children so she could continue working toward her goals.
Now, as I age, I realize that resiliency is the skill we all need to cultivate even if our obstacles seemingly pale in comparison to those of others. We all have to be heroes of our own stories.
