The Heart of It All

A thirty-three-year-old female police officer from a local community was killed in the line of duty last week and her funeral was televised this morning. Because of the COVID-19 restrictions they could not perform the formal ceremony at the grave site so they conducted it outside the church before the private service inside with her family. 

It was a beautiful day honoring a young woman who had so much potential. A graduate of William and Mary College and an outstanding athlete, her potential was limitless, and those who knew her said her goal was to become a US Senator. Her accomplishments included several leadership awards and the word “kind” was consistently used when describing her. 

Of course, I cried as I watched the service. It was a stark reminder of my young husband’s death. The twenty-one-gun salute, the haunting playing of taps, the folding and presenting of the flag; all triggering a flood of memories as if it was yesterday. I thought of her family and how today they were surrounded by a community of supporters, and how they will need to remember that love in the days ahead when the grief is overwhelming.  

We are taught to always try to see the good in any situation but witnessing the sudden loss of productive lives such as Rob’s and this young woman’s, it’s hard to imagine.  It seems senseless to even consider anything positive from such tragedies, and, working as a nurse for many years, I struggled with how to find answers in those same situations each time I was faced with them. I can only hope that there is some purpose for things we don’t understand, and take any lessons we can salvage as we sift through our feelings and emotions.

As I sit here today practicing social distancing and not knowing what our future will look like after this crisis, I wonder if the answer is buried in obvious. Maybe it is a wakeup call for us to step back and take a deep look inside. They say people don’t like to talk about tragedies because it becomes too personal. No one wants to think of the possibility of those things happening in their life. I can only imagine the thoughts of the officers and their families who honored this young woman today, knowing this could have been any one of them, and friends told me after my husband’s death that they felt selfish for trying to block out the thought of being a young widow.

But in this current environment we are bombarded with constant information about the situation and the effects on each of us individually as well as an international community. We do know how COVID-19 can affect us personally because we live it 24/7. We are immersed in it and because of this, it is refreshing to see the out pouring of care and support for each other. The same folks who were fighting over things like politics and religion are now helping each other out and writing uplifting messages on social media. We are so good at coming together during tough times, but as people go back to their hectic lives and distractions, history has demonstrated that the kindness and tolerance decreases as well.

I just ask that you might consider a different way of thinking as we process our way through all of this. During this time of uncertainty, maybe each of us could take a deeper look at our beliefs and actions of the past and think of one or two things we might reconsider. Our group thinking and support is helping so many people during this time and together we can help many, but we also need to look at ourselves individually. Instead of going back to the way we were, maybe we find a new normal. A kinder more generous life when there is no tragedy. When people asked me what they could do for me when Rob died, I said, “Call me in six months.” What would the community spirit and national unity look like in six months after this situation has past if everyone reflected on becoming a better person than they were before it occurred. 

Edward Everett says, “I am only one but still I am one. I cannot do everything, but still I can do something.” If each of us makes a conscious decision to do better at this thing called life, imagine the magnified effect of this collective body on the fate of the world.

 So, at The Heart Of It All, in this glorious thing called life, maybe that is the urgent and critical message of the senseless loss of a life or a pandemic outbreak; that life is short and precious and we need to understand and live to the full human potential not just in times of need but this day, every day. 

Namaste

Many people associate major changes in their lives with a date or an event. When they remember a situation that affected their lives at some point, they relate it to a time when something else occurred.  I’ve heard some say, “Oh, that happened in 2015 because that is when my grandchild was born,” or, “This occurred in August because it was the same time that Sarah left for college.” But as I consider my life changing circumstances and events over the years, I find myself relating not to a time or an event, but to asking myself the same question every time a change was eminent; “How? How am I ever going to do this?”

When my husband Rob was diagnosed with cardiomyopathy and quickly needed a heart transplant, I asked- “How? How can we make it? How can I help him?” When he died 2 years later at the age of 35, I again asked, “How? How can I support my family? How can I work and go to school? How can I go on without him?” With each “How” that I continued to put out into the universe, answers eventually came after much soul searching and decision making, but it seems that my life has been a series of these “How am I going to do this” questions for many years.

Now I’ve approached another crossroads in my life and the question again is forefront in my mind. Due to several different circumstances at this point in my life, I have made the decision to retire. This decision was not an easy one because I love my work and the people who surround me. So again, I ask, “How?” How can I leave an organization that has given me so much more than I have ever given to it? Being a part of my team has given me purposeful and fulfilling work, relationships, family and a social life. It was and continues to be my home away from home.

I came to Christ Hospital straight out of nursing school as a brand-new nurse who had so much to learn and they welcomed me with open arms. Still learning to live as a young widow with two kids, I found a home on Auburn Avenue and a family of peers to support me. They held me up when I struggled and helped me to grow both personally and professionally until I felt confident enough to move forward.

They gave me friendships, weddings, baby showers and all the social events that we attended as a team. I never felt like the “third wheel” at any gathering even if all were couples because I got to know their families as well as my own. Together we were a team and I was accepted completely and unconditionally.

Then there were the patients. The miracles and the tragedies we shared with them that just strengthened the bond between us. Where else could you have your hands in bodily fluids, perform CPR, sit and hold a patient’s hand and share educational information with a family member all before you go to lunch—that is, if you ever got to go to lunch! Yes, the patients were the thread that connected us to each other and I can still recall so many of them by their names, their stories, diagnosis and outcomes.

Experiencing life from this view connects nurses and the other team members like no other profession. Sharing those stories that no one else would believe with each other forges such strong relationships because no one else “gets it” like we do. Twelve-hour shifts are never twelve hours and weekends are just another day.

On a trip home from a vacation one night, I remember flying in over the hospital and spotting the cupola with the blue cross shining brightly in the sky. “That’s where I work,” I proudly told the person sitting next to me as I pointed out the window. “Oh, Christ Hospital. That is a good hospital,” they replied. “Yes, it is,” I answered, but I wanted to say so much more.

I wanted to explain that it is not just an institutional building that provides healthcare, but an army of experts dedicated to caring not only for the sick but for each other. It is an outstanding technological and research center where people still walk lost visitors to their destination. It is a collection of walls that encase people with the capacity to love at so many levels.

So how; how do I walk away from a place that taught me all I know about life and death and everything in between? I’ve decided it is by blind faith. And connection. I plan to remain a part of this family even though I will not be inside its four walls every day. I will hold each of them in my heart and take everything they have shared with me wherever I go; I plan to become a volunteer so I can give back a small portion of what I gained in my 28 plus years, and find purpose in a different way.

I am so grateful for all they have done and continue to do for me and for the patients. Just because I won’t reside there every day does not mean that I am not still a part of the team and their work. I send them many blessings and positive energy and I ask that they might do the same for me.

So, at The Heart Of It All, in this glorious thing called life, we all will experience “How am I going to do this” situations at one time or another and how we respond is up to us. Wayne Dyer said, “Our lives are what our thoughts create,” so the future is ours to design.

Going forward, I have decided the best way to honor the sacred work of nursing and those who invested so much in me over the years is to live the best life possible one day at a time. As I draw upon all the lessons learned as the foundation for the next phase of the journey, I can step into the unknown with confidence as a testimony to those who brought me to this place.

Namaste

One of my favorite segments of the TV show, “Sunday Today” with Willie Geist is called “A Life Well Lived.” Even if I cannot watch the entire show, I make every attempt to see these last few minutes at the end of the program because the stories are so uplifting and inspiring. The lives of common everyday people who have recently passed away are featured for some outstanding accomplishment they had achieved over their lifespan through hard work and dedication to their passion. No paparazzi or red carpets to walk, these ordinary people who did extraordinary deeds and quietly revolutionized things in our lifetime that we now take for granted.

Arno Motulsky, who survived Natzi Germany, eventually came to the United States and created and defined the field of medical genetics. Back in the 1950’s his groundbreaking idea that heredity impacts our health is now an assumption of our everyday lives and many lifesaving drugs have been developed out of his work. Arno quietly passed away at 94 years old.

Educator and activist Samuel D. Cook, took a job picking tobacco at the age 15 with his childhood friend Martin Luther King Jr. He went on to get his degree at Morehouse College and, after earning a doctorate degree, taught at the college level. In 1966, at Duke University in North Carolina, he became the first African American professor hired in a tenure track at a white southern university. After his second year in the position, he was named the university’s outstanding professor. Later in his career, Samuel was made president of Dillard University in New Orleans where he remained for 22 years. Samuel DuBois Cook died peacefully in his home with his wife of 55 years by his side.

Week after week I listen to stories of people who lived with grace and humility as they quietly went about their work of making history. Their impact on our daily lives is unmeasurable and yet their names are unknown.  Quiet champions who left the world a better place than when they entered it with no expectation of acknowledgement or honor.

Mahatma Gandhi says “The best way to find yourself is to lose yourself in the service of others” and these people most certainly lived to serve mankind. But as I reflect on my own life and those around me, I realize that a life well lived can also be found in the day to day actions of one human being to another; or a family; or a neighborhood.  Not just serving mankind but a quiet life well lived at the singular human being level.

One example of a personal life well lived was that of my step-father. A kind and gentle man who, despite health issues of his own, took wonderful care of my mother who had multiple sclerosis. His respect for her dignity and quality of care allowed her to live many years at home knowing her life had value and worth. Never once did he waver in his care and love for her; and, as his health faltered, made sure her needs were met every step of the way.

Another illustration is the story of Dick Hoyt and his son Rick. In 1977 Rick, who is a spastic quadriplegic with cerebral palsy and cannot walk or communicate except through a computer system, told his dad that he wanted to participate in a 5 mile benefit run for a Lacrosse player who had been paralyzed in an accident. Dick pushed his son’s wheelchair and completed the race, but because he was not an experienced runner, came in second to last. At the finish, Rick told his dad that “when we are running, I feel like I am not disabled.” Fast forward to present day and this father son team has participated in over 1100 athletic events and completed 32 Boston Marathons. Team Hoyt has raised over $1 million dollars for Easter Seals and their goal is to build character, confidence and self-esteem for physically challenged young people. One man; one son; a life well lived.

I can also share one experience that personally affected me after the death of my husband. I was a young widow with one son away at school and another small child at home. I was in nursing school and working as much as I could so time to provide a good meal seemed impossible. In fact, my sister fondly recalls a time when I asked Adam “what do you want for dinner,” and his response was “I don’t know. Where do you want to go!” At this time, a lady I knew from church approached me and told me how much she loved to cook and how she always cooked too much, so would I care if she shared a few meals with me when she had extra.  “Hate to see it go to waste!” she proclaimed. I realized later this was her way of not making me feel bad or obliged to pay her back because over the course of the next year, she quietly stopped by every Friday with some meals. All packed up and frozen and so easy to heat and eat. She continued to explain how I was helping her by taking them “off her hands” but in reality, I knew her objective was to be my food angel. I am certain she was one of the reasons I made it through that year as she nourished my body and my soul.

There are so many examples of similar people that I have worked with in the health care setting but one stands out in particular.  A patient care assistant who I will call Sue, worked part time night shift with me for many years. She was always warm and kind and never uttered a cross word about anyone. “Happy to be here,” she would say smiling when we all complained about schedules and other work related things. It was by accident that I found out that this was just an extra part time job she had in addition to her full time day job for a housekeeping company. A few years earlier, her friend had passed away of a heroin overdose and left 2 small children orphaned. Sue, who tried to help her friend through the recovery process, was devastated and decided she would not allow the children to be separated and suffer even more trauma. So she welcomed them into her home, already with 2 kids of her own, and took a part time job to help support the extended family. We still stay in contact periodically and last I heard 3 of her 4 children were in college and the youngest was graduating high school the following year. One person, unpretentious and humble, affecting the lives of 2 children who would have been lost in the system.

There are so many others I could mention but I hope this presents insight into the impact one person can have on another. Mollie Marti says, “Our power lies in our small daily choices, one after another, to create eternal ripples of a life well lived.”  It is not necessary to discover a life changing invention or become president of a college to have a life well lived. Everyday heroes live and work among us and all it takes is a little insight to recognize them. They have blessed my life and taught me that no act of kindness is too small or without a consequence; often much bigger than we can imagine.

So at the Heart of it All, in this glorious thing called life, we can celebrate our heroes and read biographies about the famous stars, but every once in a while take a step back and watch those who silently move along the path of a life well lived. Buddha tells us, “In the end, these things matter the most: How well did you love? How fully did you live? How deeply did you let go?”

Namaste

I was raised with that old German adage of work and commitment that assumed you did what you were supposed to do when you said you would do it. Vince Lombardi once said, “Most people fail, not because of lack of desire, but because of lack of commitment” and I have lived many years with that as a foundation for my life. I was the one who was never late, did what was expected of me and kept my promises; well, most of them! What wasn’t produced by commitment was generated by that old catholic guilt and it got me through life pretty well.

In 2016, I began this blog because of my love for writing and a belief that I had some life experiences to share. My goal was to publish a posting every month or two to keep the site current, but in July, I fell short of my commitment. Just recovering from a serious ankle injury, I sold my house, purged many of my belongings, lived with generous friends until my condo was available and moved just a few months ago. During this time, I neglected my writing because of this series of occurrences but that nagging guilt about commitment lingered in my daily thoughts.  “Should of, could of, would of” was my mantra and I wore that guilt veil well. Every day that went by and I did not get to my writing, I was disappointed in myself and my lack of fulfilling my commitment.  I have a habit of being my own worst enemy and worrying about trying to keep everything and everyone happy.

Then a funny thing happened. I attended a workshop titled “Self-Care.” I thought it might be about doing things like reading a book or getting a massage, but the message was much deeper than that. The speaker talked about our “monkey brain;” the chatter that we hear every day and the thoughts that come and go in our mind. The human brain produces approximately 70,000 thoughts on an average day and there are 86,400 seconds in a 24 hour day. That means we have a different thought every 1.2 seconds! Wow! No wonder we are exhausted!

The discussion continued around the thought process and how we are programed to think and believe in a certain way, but that way may not be actual reality. We develop our beliefs and thought system as a child from what we are taught or exposed to by others. This information then becomes imbedded into our lives as fact, but that does not mean it is necessarily the truth or what we have to believe as an adult.

We did an exercise that had us close our eyes and picture an old video tape, and then visualize pulling all of the film out of the cartridge and discarding it; leaving us with a blank slate to begin building a new way of thinking. The fact that we do not have to necessarily believe or accept each thought that we have but to just let them pass through our minds without judgment was a new concept for me and it gave me a new perspective to consider. This is how religious, cultural and many other beliefs are passed down generation to generation. What one culture believes is immoral might be totally accepted in another.

Then as I was leaving the presentation with all these new ideas to consider, I ran into a former colleague who was a mentor to me when I first became a manager. As we chatted, I suddenly remembered a discussion we had when I took my first leadership role. She was talking to me about burnout and wanted to give me some advice on how to stay the course and remain positive during stressful times.

“Oaks and willows,” she told me. “Years ago we used an autocratic style which included an expectation that everyone follow the set rules and don’t ask questions; just do what was expected. Just like an oak tree; strong and sturdy but rigid and unwilling to bend in the wind with no room for compromise.  Now we know it is more important to be adaptable and use an adjustable style of managing, not only in the workplace, but in our personal lives as well. Each situation is unique and everyone has a different learning style and way of processing things. Circumstances are constantly changing and we must be willing to adapt to them. Like a willow tree; a more supple and malleable approach to each situation with the ability to bend in the storm while remaining firm in the foundation. This is the key to success in your personal and professional life.”

I thought about the two messages I received that day. Self-care is not just going on vacation or getting a manicure once in a while. It is loving yourself first so you can than extend that love to others. It begins with believing that you deserve all good things and that only you are in control of your thoughts and actions. But it is more complicated than just saying it out loud. I read an article once that talked about people having the courage to begin to step out of their comfort zone and try to make changes in their lives only to be criticized for doing so by those around them. They compared it to a yard surrounded by an electric fence in order to keep an animal constrained. They get zapped a few times and then learn to just stay within the boundaries set by someone else. Breaking that barrier is too risky.

We can make every effort to explore different ways of thinking and believing but sometimes the fear of transformation is impeded by familiarity just like that electric fence. It is safer to just remain where we are than to step outside that comfort zone and explore other options. Dr. Steve Maraboli says, “Love yourself enough to take the actions required for your happiness…enough to cut yourself lose from the drama filled past; enough to set a high standard for relationships; enough to feed you mind and body in a healthy manner; enough to forgive yourself; enough to move on.”

Whether it be self-care or oaks and willows; the message is the same. Stay rooted in your foundation but be flexible enough to see things in another way; from another viewpoint. Be open to new ideas and ways of thinking. Be gentle on yourself when things don’t go as you or others thought they should. And when the storms come, and there will always be storms, stay rooted in strength yet bend in the direction of the wind because eventually the gusts will cease. And who knows, life outside those self- inflicted rules and regulations could be more magnificent than you could have ever imagined.

So at the Heart of it All, this glorious thing called life brings us many messages in many forms but none as powerful as our thoughts. As Nishan Panwar says, “Chose your thoughts carefully. Keep what brings you peace, release what brings you suffering, and know that happiness is just a thought away.”

Recently my family and I traveled many miles from three different cities to spend some time together at the beach. When you think about it, it seems odd that people would pack up their car and spend their valuable time and money just to be by a body of water. When you ask what draws people to the beach, most responses include the water, the sun and the sound of the waves. Vacations are usually for relaxation and can be enjoyed in any area or climate, but a trip to the beach seems to spark that universal feeling of serenity.

I thought about this while I was sitting in a lounge chair with my feet in the sand and realizing that the allurement of this body of water stems from the message it is trying to convey. John F Kennedy tells us that “All of us have the exact percentage of salt in our blood that exists in the ocean…. We are tied to the ocean and when we go back to the sea, we are going back from whence we came.”

The ocean is like a parent to us; continually trying to get our attention; to nurture and mentor us to learn the lessons it reveals about life and resiliency. Think about the billions of drops of water that come together to form a united body of water; working in harmony no matter the circumstances. The pull of a full or partial moon might change momentum; the sun may change the temperature but the ocean does not resist. Instead, it continues to do its work with the faith that all is well; adapting to the changes presented to it realizing that disharmony causes loss of strength. We could all learn to be better at this.

As visitors to the beach, we often observe the surface of the water and make judgements on its value. Will a surf board glide across it? Can I recline on a float and get a tan? Making judgements based on its exterior, we neglect to look beneath the surface to see the beauty of what lies within. Dave Berry describes it this way: “There is nothing wrong with enjoying looking at the surface of the ocean itself, except that when you finally see what goes on underwater, you realize that you’ve been missing the whole point of the ocean. Staying on the surface all the time is like going to the circus and staring at the outside of the tent.”

The beauty of the coral; the millions of living things that reside beneath the external are all overlooked when we judge only that which we can see. The depths of the ocean contain more beauty and life than we can imagine and it goes to great lengths to protect it. Not caring what it looks like on the outside, the sea maintains an environment of nourishment in order to provide magnificence within. In addition, when something is placed inside it that could be harmful to its milieu, it purposefully brings it to the surface for disposal. Always striving for internal balance over external.

How many of us spend endless time worrying about our external appearance and how we look to others? How many judge others based only on what we can see with no consideration of the potential internal beauty? I hate to admit that I did just that while I was sitting there with my feet in the sand on lands edge worrying about the cellulite on my legs and looking at others in their bathing garments. Then as the water tenderly lapped up over my toes as a gentle reminder of all the lessons it has for me just as the parent reminds the child, I remembered again of the message of the ocean.

My seven-year old granddaughter was the reminder of my next lesson. As she looked at my feet in the sand she began to tell me the story of the parrotfish and the development of the white sand in some of the tropical areas where they reside. These fish feed on the algae and the live coral on the reefs in that area. Plates within their throat grind the mixture that has been eaten and then after digesting the coral rock, it is excreted as sand! Again, I was pulled back to the message of the water; that everything internal has a purpose and nothing is wasted in the process. One part of the group doing the right thing in harmony with all the other parts for the good of the whole.

If our civilization could function like this, the possibilities of a better world would be endless,

but all we can control is ourselves. Just as each parrotfish does not worry about what the other fish is doing but just does his own work to the best of his ability, imagine if we all did the same. If each of us did not worry about the surface, but instead lived to see the internal beauty of ourselves and others, what wondrous results could we achieve!

As we spent the week near the sea, I witnessed so many miracles by the water. I believe children still have an open mind that’s not yet been tainted by the world, and remember the purpose of the ocean. Watching one-year old Lucy stand at land’s edge, allowing the water to splash up over her legs while her feet sink into the sand, I saw the look of gleeful familiarity on her face. Seven-year old Calissa, who is constantly on the go, was content all afternoon as she placed sticks in the sand to see if they would withstand the waves. Both young souls instinctively knew the intimacy of ocean.

The week has come to an end and everyone has headed back to their normal lives but I hope that they carry the message of the ocean back in their heart. There is a meditation by Nayyirah Waheed that says “If the ocean can calm itself, so can you. We are both salt water mixed with air.”

So, at the Heart of it All, this glorious thing called life brings us messages in many forms but the message of the ocean takes us home where it all began.

Namaste

My granddaughter loves the movie “Frozen” and can sing along with all the songs throughout the movie. Her favorite one is “Let It Go” and she dramatically tosses her head to the side, throws her arms in the air and closes her eyes as she bellows out the words. During her last performance, I asked her what she thought those words meant and she gave me a look like I was ridiculous to even ask. With the raw honesty of a seven-year old she replied, “She just needed to let go of everything and only believe in herself, grandma!” How can such a simple statement from a child be so hard to follow as an adult?

I remembered that conversation recently as I began to prepare for a new life transition. I recently had a devastating ankle injury which left me non-weight bearing for eight weeks, and during that time of rehabilitation, I realized that my living situation may not be a safe environment at this point in my life. I live in a bi-level and recognized that if I needed to escape quickly under those conditions, I would have had to find an alternate exit since I was unable to maneuver the steps. This then led to a future life evaluation and, in the end, I became the owner of a new condominium!

This decision of course, has led to many other selections and choices I have to make before I finally move. This was the house Rob and I bought together; where he spent his last days on earth, and where the boys were raised until they went off to college. In addition to the house, there was 31 years of possessions to sort through and purge because my new space would not accommodate everything in my current home. Lots of memories and emotional attachments to so many things, but I am trying to learn a new way as I go through this process. Or as Calissa says with such enthusiasm, “Just let it go grandma!”

In her book “The Life Changing Magic of Tiding Up,” Marie Kondo says, “The space in which we live should be for the person we are becoming now, not for the person we were in the past. When we really delve into the reasons for why we can’t let something go, there are only two: an attachment to the past or a fear for the future.”

As I read that, I realized that I probably had both the attachment and the fear but I was determined to work through it. Many of us have so much “stuff” that weighs us down both physically and emotionally that it interferes with life. I know people who cannot park their expensive car in the garage because it is filled with things they don’t even remember or use. I knew I was on the right track but I had no idea where to start.

So, I decided to start one drawer at a time. Ms. Kondo says, “The best way to choose what to keep and what to throw away is to take each item in one’s hand and ask: “Does this spark joy?” If it does, keep it. If not, dispose of it. This is not only the simplest but also the most accurate yardstick by which to judge.” As I surveyed the contents of each space, I did just that. I held each item in my hand and then decided to keep it or to let go. It was a slow process at first but I finally understood. It wasn’t the item that was important; it was the memory attached to it and I would always have that to hold in my heart.

The purging was life changing; I am still in the process but I have made progress along the way. Keep, discard or share; these were my three choices with each item. Some things were still in good shape but just not useful to me anymore, so I thanked it, blessed it and passed it on to someone who could now use it. It may sound silly but as I proceed, I feel “lighter.” When I move, I will only take the things that I need and use and will not be weighed down by the excess while looking forward to what lies ahead. Bryant McGill says “Abundance is a process of letting go; that which is empty can receive.”
As I continue the practice of purging my possessions, I realize this is just a small part of letting go. A bigger piece of this practice is all the emotional baggage to which we cling. So many times we hold grudges and judge others with such intensity that the weight stagnates us. I have come to realize that there are times I have allowed a comment or an action made by someone else to ruin not only my day but how I interact with others, but I also know that forgiveness of self and others is the key to a purposeful life. Roy Bennet writes, “Accept yourself, love yourself and keep moving forward. If you want to fly you have to give up what weighs you down.”

It is funny how the universe works for us. Something as terrible as my fractured ankle has brought me to a better place both physically and emotionally and now I look forward to a new chapter in my life. If we could just learn to stay out of our own way and have faith that all works for the greater good and that the less we carry, the easier it is for us to experience life to the fullest. The burden of possessions both tangible and emotional does not have to be ours to bear and it all begins with the art of simply letting go.

Peace be with you

I have to admit I am an Oscar’s junky. I love to curl up for a few hours each year to watch the stars on the red carpet and celebrate the movies of the past year. One of the nominated films this year is called “Hidden Figures” and it tells the story of three African-American women who were the brains behind the success of the NASA space program in the 1960’s. These women worked under discriminatory and unfair labor conditions in the basement of a building yet continued to provide outstanding results as mathematicians. The lack of recognition did not affect their work ethic or commitment to the process of doing the right thing.

Stories that reflect on our past and become a catalyst for change are vital to our culture and need to be told, but what about those hidden figures who slip through life unnoticed yet have an immense impact on our lives? Those unsung heroes who not only live a life of grace themselves but also reside in the background of our day to day lives as the foundation of our strength and courage. I have several that come to mind in my own life but I would like to tell you about two of them.

Anna, my maternal grandmother, is buried in a small grave in northern Kentucky. There was no movie about her life and her obituary was a small paragraph on page 9 of the newspaper, but her impact on my life was Oscar worthy. After the passing of my grandpa, my mom and dad moved in with my grandma when I was one year old and we lived with her until I graduated from high school. My father was a severe alcoholic who never held steady employment while my mother worked three jobs to support the family.

Grandma was the one who met me at the door every day after school and surrounded me with a sense of normalcy in an otherwise chaotic environment. She talked to me about my plans for the future and made sure I knew the importance of education. Being a religious person, Anna would take me to church with her as well as the weekly neighborhood rosary meetings.  Many times, she would let me lead the prayers on Monday nights and brag to her friends about me. Her presence in my life gave me a sense of hope for my future and without it, I don’t know who I would be today.

As a child, we all need that one person who thinks we “hang the moon.” When I was in my early grade school years, I was a bed wetter. I am sure it originated from the turmoil in our home but no matter the cause, it made me very anxious. I did everything I could to prevent it but the more I tried, the worse it became. I shared a bedroom with my grandma and, most nights I would wake her up in the middle of the night to tell her my bed was wet. Not only did she get up and change my sheets and make sure I was cleaned up before going back to bed, but she never made me feel bad about it.  “It’s okay honey. Just go back to sleep.”

Fast forward to my adult life. After the death of my husband, I went to nursing school to be able to support my family. Although I did well in school, those old feelings of inadequacy crept back in to my mind as I started my new job as an RN. My grandmother had passed away and I was now the grown up. Working on a stressful cardiac unit, I questioned my ability to be able to be successful in this environment. The constantly changing milieu and the sudden decision making situations were a reminder of the unstable upbringing of the past and I needed a support system. There was a colleague of mine who was in a leadership role who happened to see in me things I could not see in myself. She was a quiet mentor and role model that I could use as my compass when I was lost.

One day, I made a decision based on everything I knew but the physician felt I had put the patient at risk. He belittled me in front of the patient and family and I was devastated. Even though I loved my unit, I was ready to resign and move to a less stressful role because I did not feel worthy. This person took me aside and spent time telling me about similar situations she had faced as a young nurse. “You are a good nurse,” she said to me as she looked straight into my eyes. “Do not allow the rudeness of one question your ability and self-worth. This floor and these patients need your skills and knowledge so if there is a lesson to be learned, take it in and move forward.” Her words affected me on a professional level as profoundly as my grandmother’s words affected my personal life. I remained on that unit and years later, became the manager of that floor.

I am so grateful for these two individuals in my life and I know they would be proud of me today. They helped me to become the person I am and I can only hope that I can be a “hidden figure” for others like they were for me. We never know how our support and encouragement can raise up others when they need it most. Think about those people who may have had an impact on your life; those who quietly sustained you without fame or recognition and appreciate their impact by becoming all you were meant to be.

So at the Heart of it All, we all have “hidden figures” in this glorious thing called life who hold us up when we cannot stand on our own. No movie; no Oscar; just a gift of love.

Peace and joy.

Six weeks ago, I had surgery for a fractured ankle. I am non-weight bearing so any excursions outside my home becomes a major undertaking. Hobbling down the stairs to the car and packing up the scooter is just the beginning of a time-consuming ordeal to simply get out of the house to an appointment or an occasional bite to eat. Usually the person helping me through this process is a family member or a close friend for which I am totally grateful but not surprised. This is what we do for people we know and love. I have received nice cards, messages, meals and many other indications of their care and concern for me and I know that I would do the same thing for them if our roles were reversed.

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Have you ever gone back to your childhood community and thought it appeared so much smaller than the memory you held of it? Recently, I drove up the street where I grew up and had participated in some fierce kick ball games on hot summer days and wondered how we could have ever played that game on such a narrow street!! As a child, it appeared larger than life but looking at it through a different lens and under different circumstances forced me to completely rethink my point of view. Dr. Wayne Dyer said “If you change the way you look at things, the things you look at change,” and I certainly discovered the truth of these words over the last few weeks.

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Today would have been my husband’s 67^th birthday.  Rob passed away at the very young age of 36, and as I reflect back over our years together, I am reminded of many things but the one thing I regret the most is my lack of patience over things while he was on this earth.

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