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Sunday, Nov 8, 2009
I was forming words for a letter to a friend who is in the same situation - cancer - when I read this letter. Huh.
Four years ago, I was diagnosed with lupus. I had been sick for a long time, with the doctors all shaking their heads and saying there wasn't anything seriously wrong with me, when finally I got so sick that they had to admit there was indeed something wrong. I spent a couple of months on various medications that were supposed to get things under control. They didn't really work.
Christmas Day spent sitting wanly on a sofa with my husband deputized to jump up and volunteer for handing out presents, clearing the table, all my traditional duties, so my folks wouldn't realize how sick I was. The week after Christmas I spent in bed. Just taking a shower was exhausting; we bought a plastic chair so I could sit down in the shower.
New Year's Eve. Felt a little better. I live in the South, and one of our traditions is eating black-eyed-peas on New Year's. Not only are they delicious, but supposedly for each pea you eat, you will have a good day in the coming year. I decided I felt well enough to venture out to the grocery with my husband and buy some peas.
Everyone in Memphis must have had the same idea - there were no black-eyed-peas anywhere, just empty shelves. Not fresh peas, not canned, not dried. Nary a pea. Our resources dwindled as the day drew on and the stores closed early. Our last stop was Wal-mart. I was too weak to walk to the produce section at the back of the store, so I sat on one of the benches at the front while my husband went.
I felt so sorry for myself that I was almost in tears. I'm not usually superstitious, but the lack of peas seemed like an omen, the universe telling me that I would never have a good day again. That was about the time I noticed two children sneaking along behind the magazine racks pointing and staring at someone.
They were pointing at a man with two artificial arms. He had every right to be offended by their behavior, but instead, he beckoned them to come over, and explained that he had worked for the electric company before having an accident which caused such severe burns that both of his arms had to be amputated. He demonstrated his artificial arms, talked about how they worked, gave the kids a little lecture about not playing with electricity. They danced away, beaming, as their mother returned, very embarrassed by their behavior, and apologized on their behalf. No problem, the guy said, I love talking to kids.
Okay, now I'm sitting there thinking, I felt sorry for myself because I had no shoes until I met a man who had no feet, how cliche is that. But it was more than that. It was the absolute graciousness with which this man met life. I realized that no matter how bad I felt, I could still be kind. And maybe it wasn't so bad not being able to walk to the back of Wal-mart on New Year's. Chances were high I would have good spells and bad spells.
Oh - by the way - they had peas. Fresh ones, two little baskets, the last ones on the shelf.
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Fox News' morning show plays to type, talking about whether Muslims in the Army should face "special debriefings"
219 Democrats and one Republican join in favor of the legislation, which passed by a narrow margin
The survivor and author is upset about comparisons some on the right are making to genocide
Salon headlines in your mailbox
