Name Dropping
My wife and I met with a long time friend of ours who comes to town every other year. The conversation, full of small talk, wormed its way through the happenings of the past two years. One interesting tidbit she mentioned was seeing President Bush during one year, and his father, former President Bush, (or is that President Bush Sr?) the other.
As I looked back on my short life, I thought about people I have seen. Being a collector of autographed biographies, I have met a handful of celebrities who took to pen. I can say I met these people, but I cannot say I know them. In fact, I really cannot say I 'know' any celebrities, whose names I can drop. So the real question became: who do I know?
That being asked, I want to tell you about two people. I have talked with them, laughed with them, and listened to them. They both have very different lives; yet in a strange way they are very similar.
Vi.
I met Vi while at a coffee shop. Vi always takes time to greet people in the coffee shop, talking and listening to them - but that's not what makes Vi unique. I struck up a conversation with her when I realized she instigated a charity drive for a children's hospital during a past Christmas rush, one of many events she would initiate, non-stop, seeming one after another. This is not her job - this is what she does to give back to the community where she works and lives - but that's not what makes Vi unique. She also, last year, took in and cared for her ailing father, a veteran of WWII. Making sure his standard of living was high, making time to take him to the VA hospital for his checkups, making time to take him home to Florida for vacation and holidays, making time to talk and to listen to him. Making time. When he passed away this year she took time to organize what he left - but that's not what makes Vi unique. Vi, a single mother, has a daughter who, when she was born, was diagnosed with "Focal proliferative glomerular nephritis" - roughly translated it means: "your child will only live about six months."
What makes Vi unique is Vi's indomitable spirit. She grabbed Death by the robe and argued for her daughters' life, reading every medical journal, book, article, and holistic writing she could find. She focused on life and living, finding new treatments and contacting the providers of such, sometimes against doctors' recommendation. Today, her daughter is 22 years old, constantly on medication, and fighting depression. Each medical treatment and new medication only lasts a short time, a couple of years or so, then it becomes ineffective and a replacement must be found, each with a new set of side effects to deal with.
Try to conceive of working to keep your child alive for that long. Try to conceive of living every day knowing you have been borrowing against the bank of life, all of your life. They both are strong in faith, and they both smile.
When I talk to Vi, she is always 'up.' I watch her eyes. When her eyes ask, I take her aside and listen to her, but I am instantly overwhelmed by her life and often at a loss on how to help or even what to say. There are the charities, the coffee shop, the life and death of her father, the depression of her daughter, the medicines and the treatments that eventually will fail. It is more than I can absorb. I feel overwhelmed. I cannot imagine being her.
Jo.
Jo is a friend from high school. I kept in contact with her since I was a friend with both her and her mother. Over a decade ago an explosion occurred where Jo worked. In an instant, her life changed. Burned over 50% of her body in a flash-fire, Jo, not expected to live, survived. She tells me of gaining 60 pound in three hours from the initial saline treatment, her body bloating beyond recognition. She tells me of the Clorox baths, of the wire-brushes scrubbings to remove the burned skin, of her body going into shock immediately after each treatment. She tells me of the constant yearlong pain, seemingly impervious to the huge doses of morphine. She tells me of skin graph after skin graph after skin graph, and of the razors slicing thin sheets of skin from unburned section of her body, then stretched and stapled where needed. Today she still needs operations to repair the damage to her body and to the continually moving and changing scars. Even with all this, life had another surprise in store: an unstable husband, whose repeated assaults preceded his intent to take her life.
But Jo, like Vi, has an indomitable spirit. Solid in her faith, and dedicated to her children with such ferocity that Death could not take her where she did not want to go.
I cannot comprehend the magnitude of such life-changing events as what these two women have lived through and live with. I do not have the pain in my life, the problems in my life, or the difficulties in my life to compare. I think (hope) that knowing these two people has reduced the amount of complaining I do.
I do not know celebrities whose names I can drop, but I know two people whose character is such that I am humbled by knowing them.
Name-dropping? No, I think I'll stick to character-dropping.
As I looked back on my short life, I thought about people I have seen. Being a collector of autographed biographies, I have met a handful of celebrities who took to pen. I can say I met these people, but I cannot say I know them. In fact, I really cannot say I 'know' any celebrities, whose names I can drop. So the real question became: who do I know?
That being asked, I want to tell you about two people. I have talked with them, laughed with them, and listened to them. They both have very different lives; yet in a strange way they are very similar.
Vi.
I met Vi while at a coffee shop. Vi always takes time to greet people in the coffee shop, talking and listening to them - but that's not what makes Vi unique. I struck up a conversation with her when I realized she instigated a charity drive for a children's hospital during a past Christmas rush, one of many events she would initiate, non-stop, seeming one after another. This is not her job - this is what she does to give back to the community where she works and lives - but that's not what makes Vi unique. She also, last year, took in and cared for her ailing father, a veteran of WWII. Making sure his standard of living was high, making time to take him to the VA hospital for his checkups, making time to take him home to Florida for vacation and holidays, making time to talk and to listen to him. Making time. When he passed away this year she took time to organize what he left - but that's not what makes Vi unique. Vi, a single mother, has a daughter who, when she was born, was diagnosed with "Focal proliferative glomerular nephritis" - roughly translated it means: "your child will only live about six months."
What makes Vi unique is Vi's indomitable spirit. She grabbed Death by the robe and argued for her daughters' life, reading every medical journal, book, article, and holistic writing she could find. She focused on life and living, finding new treatments and contacting the providers of such, sometimes against doctors' recommendation. Today, her daughter is 22 years old, constantly on medication, and fighting depression. Each medical treatment and new medication only lasts a short time, a couple of years or so, then it becomes ineffective and a replacement must be found, each with a new set of side effects to deal with.
Try to conceive of working to keep your child alive for that long. Try to conceive of living every day knowing you have been borrowing against the bank of life, all of your life. They both are strong in faith, and they both smile.
When I talk to Vi, she is always 'up.' I watch her eyes. When her eyes ask, I take her aside and listen to her, but I am instantly overwhelmed by her life and often at a loss on how to help or even what to say. There are the charities, the coffee shop, the life and death of her father, the depression of her daughter, the medicines and the treatments that eventually will fail. It is more than I can absorb. I feel overwhelmed. I cannot imagine being her.
Jo.
Jo is a friend from high school. I kept in contact with her since I was a friend with both her and her mother. Over a decade ago an explosion occurred where Jo worked. In an instant, her life changed. Burned over 50% of her body in a flash-fire, Jo, not expected to live, survived. She tells me of gaining 60 pound in three hours from the initial saline treatment, her body bloating beyond recognition. She tells me of the Clorox baths, of the wire-brushes scrubbings to remove the burned skin, of her body going into shock immediately after each treatment. She tells me of the constant yearlong pain, seemingly impervious to the huge doses of morphine. She tells me of skin graph after skin graph after skin graph, and of the razors slicing thin sheets of skin from unburned section of her body, then stretched and stapled where needed. Today she still needs operations to repair the damage to her body and to the continually moving and changing scars. Even with all this, life had another surprise in store: an unstable husband, whose repeated assaults preceded his intent to take her life.
But Jo, like Vi, has an indomitable spirit. Solid in her faith, and dedicated to her children with such ferocity that Death could not take her where she did not want to go.
I cannot comprehend the magnitude of such life-changing events as what these two women have lived through and live with. I do not have the pain in my life, the problems in my life, or the difficulties in my life to compare. I think (hope) that knowing these two people has reduced the amount of complaining I do.
I do not know celebrities whose names I can drop, but I know two people whose character is such that I am humbled by knowing them.
Name-dropping? No, I think I'll stick to character-dropping.
posted by G. Steven Nolte at 9:38 PM
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