Perspective
I wrote this several years ago and just thought it was time to share it again. This is dedicated to my friend Lee who sees through this mess of a life and calls it beautiful. You are one of the most amazing people I have ever known. I will always be one of your biggest fans. -LA
As I sat in the corner of the room, I tried to take in every word. On many of the faces gathered, the pain was right on the surface, as if you could reach out and touch it. Others appeared tougher, knowing they had walked through the pain and persevered. Some were stained with tears that fell freely. Others could wear smiles and even, at times, laugh. I was so taken by the encouragement and confidence on display. Everyone was so forthcoming and helpful to each other. I thought about how difficult it must be, for not only those sick, but for the family members as well. What a toll this illness must take on them both physically and emotionally There was a lady there who said people often asked if she was mad at God. She replied no, that her family and daughter had been blessed with three good years. They had prayed to God and he had always seen them through before. And He would again. I wanted to hide at that moment as I remembered how, just that morning, I had told God that I was so angry and disappointed with Him. How ignorant one can be when they only see life through their own set of eyes, from their own perspective. I was mesmerized with each person there. I tried to see from their vantage point as much as my mind and imagination would let me. There was such a precious moment between my friend Lee and a 12-year-old girl who was facing her third surgery. She is an artist, like Lee. He was looking at her work and paying her compliments. She hung on his every word. You could almost see one of those little girl/older boy crushes developing. She had drawn and colored the most beautiful picture of a sun. The colors were so radiant, I don't know how they kept from burning a hole through the page. He told her that he could scan her picture for her and make it bigger. He praised her talent and talked of all the potential she had. He gave her hope, a reason to keep trying, a reason to keep living. Her attitude was so positive. She said, "I've been through surgery twice before, I can get through it again." Her mother hurried the little girl out so she would have time to do her homework. I thought about how focused and optimistic she is. If I were in her shoes, homework would seem so trivial. Another lady talked about how she liked to cook to keep her mind occupied. One lady cried as she described her broken relationship with her daughter. That same lady also said that, after becoming sick, she loved people more. I've always been a people person, she said, but I just love people even more than I used to. I envied those feelings. The group celebrated as one lady announced she was finally going back to work. Another man expressed his frustration over having to leave his job. He was so dedicated to his job. He always had vacation left over each year. He loved to work. There was talk of memory loss. How children would get so upset with their afflicted parents when they couldn't remember things. I felt like I could relate just a little bit on that level, with my own memory loss due to illness. It angers me to not be able to remember things about my own life that other people do. It's as if someone gets inside your head and erases the tape. However, my struggles pale in comparison to those gathered in the room around me that night. That room was full of joy, hope, pain and encouragement. Someone mentioned that I was there to support Lee. If they only knew that he was the one supporting me. He was the brightest spot of the group. Passionate, sincere and charming. He says that cancer was one of the best things that ever happened to him. I questioned that statement, but he came back with so many reasons for why this was true for him. He has great courage. He lives every moment of his life. He takes time to stop and smell the roses. He would make time to do so, valuing that he could, savoring every moment. He said he wore his cancer like a badge. I was reminded of the first day I met him and how he was so forthcoming about what he had gone through. It tendered my heart from the beginning. I look at him through different eyes now, a changed perspective. Like he is a walking miracle. At one point he was given only a year to live. It's as if every breath he takes is miraculous. Another moment that he thought he would never have. As we walked to find our cars, he talked about a guy he worked with who had gotten so hung up about turning thirty. Lee told the guy about his life experience, and how he would soon be reaching that milestone himself. How happy and excited he was about it. What a celebration of life. Lee says he's lucky. I think it may be more than luck that he is still alive. He brings a new perspective on things to each person he encounters. Beyond the outward appearance of hats, flip-flops and paint splattered t-shirts, is a remarkable life. A tender, compassionate heart and a willingness to be so open, a reality check if you will. In light of his life, my troubles can't compare. They don't come anywhere close. From now on, I will re-think any complaints I have before I dare voice them in his presence. After the meeting, I sat in traffic for a half an hour before I made a U turn and took an alternate road home. When I got home, the heat in my home was out, but that problem seemed so trivial compared to what I had just witnessed. I doubt if anyone in that room thought it a great tragedy to know that you might have to call the HVAC people and spend a few hundred dollars to correct things. I wonder how much they would be willing to spend to know the outcome of their situations, to know what their future holds. I wanted to embrace each and every one of them and tell them it would all be all right. Yet, I knew my words just weren't enough. I wondered if they felt like they were at the mercy of doctors, new treatments and medications. I also wondered why they were chosen. Why did they have to suffer? Even though I only sat in their presence for a very short time, that group of people made a lasting impact on me. It was my honor and privilege to see a glimpse of their lives and to be able to realize how blessed I really am. I thank them for letting me see through their eyes, from a different perspective.
As I sat in the corner of the room, I tried to take in every word. On many of the faces gathered, the pain was right on the surface, as if you could reach out and touch it. Others appeared tougher, knowing they had walked through the pain and persevered. Some were stained with tears that fell freely. Others could wear smiles and even, at times, laugh. I was so taken by the encouragement and confidence on display. Everyone was so forthcoming and helpful to each other. I thought about how difficult it must be, for not only those sick, but for the family members as well. What a toll this illness must take on them both physically and emotionally There was a lady there who said people often asked if she was mad at God. She replied no, that her family and daughter had been blessed with three good years. They had prayed to God and he had always seen them through before. And He would again. I wanted to hide at that moment as I remembered how, just that morning, I had told God that I was so angry and disappointed with Him. How ignorant one can be when they only see life through their own set of eyes, from their own perspective. I was mesmerized with each person there. I tried to see from their vantage point as much as my mind and imagination would let me. There was such a precious moment between my friend Lee and a 12-year-old girl who was facing her third surgery. She is an artist, like Lee. He was looking at her work and paying her compliments. She hung on his every word. You could almost see one of those little girl/older boy crushes developing. She had drawn and colored the most beautiful picture of a sun. The colors were so radiant, I don't know how they kept from burning a hole through the page. He told her that he could scan her picture for her and make it bigger. He praised her talent and talked of all the potential she had. He gave her hope, a reason to keep trying, a reason to keep living. Her attitude was so positive. She said, "I've been through surgery twice before, I can get through it again." Her mother hurried the little girl out so she would have time to do her homework. I thought about how focused and optimistic she is. If I were in her shoes, homework would seem so trivial. Another lady talked about how she liked to cook to keep her mind occupied. One lady cried as she described her broken relationship with her daughter. That same lady also said that, after becoming sick, she loved people more. I've always been a people person, she said, but I just love people even more than I used to. I envied those feelings. The group celebrated as one lady announced she was finally going back to work. Another man expressed his frustration over having to leave his job. He was so dedicated to his job. He always had vacation left over each year. He loved to work. There was talk of memory loss. How children would get so upset with their afflicted parents when they couldn't remember things. I felt like I could relate just a little bit on that level, with my own memory loss due to illness. It angers me to not be able to remember things about my own life that other people do. It's as if someone gets inside your head and erases the tape. However, my struggles pale in comparison to those gathered in the room around me that night. That room was full of joy, hope, pain and encouragement. Someone mentioned that I was there to support Lee. If they only knew that he was the one supporting me. He was the brightest spot of the group. Passionate, sincere and charming. He says that cancer was one of the best things that ever happened to him. I questioned that statement, but he came back with so many reasons for why this was true for him. He has great courage. He lives every moment of his life. He takes time to stop and smell the roses. He would make time to do so, valuing that he could, savoring every moment. He said he wore his cancer like a badge. I was reminded of the first day I met him and how he was so forthcoming about what he had gone through. It tendered my heart from the beginning. I look at him through different eyes now, a changed perspective. Like he is a walking miracle. At one point he was given only a year to live. It's as if every breath he takes is miraculous. Another moment that he thought he would never have. As we walked to find our cars, he talked about a guy he worked with who had gotten so hung up about turning thirty. Lee told the guy about his life experience, and how he would soon be reaching that milestone himself. How happy and excited he was about it. What a celebration of life. Lee says he's lucky. I think it may be more than luck that he is still alive. He brings a new perspective on things to each person he encounters. Beyond the outward appearance of hats, flip-flops and paint splattered t-shirts, is a remarkable life. A tender, compassionate heart and a willingness to be so open, a reality check if you will. In light of his life, my troubles can't compare. They don't come anywhere close. From now on, I will re-think any complaints I have before I dare voice them in his presence. After the meeting, I sat in traffic for a half an hour before I made a U turn and took an alternate road home. When I got home, the heat in my home was out, but that problem seemed so trivial compared to what I had just witnessed. I doubt if anyone in that room thought it a great tragedy to know that you might have to call the HVAC people and spend a few hundred dollars to correct things. I wonder how much they would be willing to spend to know the outcome of their situations, to know what their future holds. I wanted to embrace each and every one of them and tell them it would all be all right. Yet, I knew my words just weren't enough. I wondered if they felt like they were at the mercy of doctors, new treatments and medications. I also wondered why they were chosen. Why did they have to suffer? Even though I only sat in their presence for a very short time, that group of people made a lasting impact on me. It was my honor and privilege to see a glimpse of their lives and to be able to realize how blessed I really am. I thank them for letting me see through their eyes, from a different perspective.
posted by Heylala | 4:37 PM
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