I’ve been meaning to write a thank-you note (of sorts) to two men I met last year. I don’t know how to get it to them, so I pray for them, ask God to protect them, and hope that they’ll somehow…know. This isn’t the proper thank you they deserve–I mean, c’mon, I’m blogging about..uuuuhhhhh…myself. MY new year’s resolutions. I swear it all fits together:
When I checked into AP in December it wasn’t hard for me to be anonymous; nobody really cared who I am…a relative nobody. I decided that everyone should have the same consideration. If you’re checking into a private facility to do some work/get some work done, you deserve privacy. You don’t need the “nobody” in the crowd staring at you or trying to rub shoulders with you. I decided I wouldn’t even look at people’s last names.
Enter one, tough, scary dude. He sat next to me at lunch one day. As was usual, he did not acknowledge me. That was OK. Really. Someone not affiliated with AP came to him and thanked him for “his service”. That made it clearly obvious that he was military, not “sports”. And that, of course, gave him a very wide berth with me. I would leave him alone. After he left the lunch room an AP staff member came to me and said “You know who that is, right?”. I nodded and replied, “Yeah, he’s a SEAL”. I knew he was indeed “somebody”, I just didn’t need to know the extent of his “somebody-ness”.
Said SEAL has a twin brother who checked into the facility the same day I did. He was a little chattier, more social. He made eye contact. And he followed everything with “Ma’am”. Lots of woman of a certain age don’t like that. He’s military. He’s a Texan. And one can never fault on the side of good manners. Call me ma’am all you want.
How cool to have these guys around! The biomechanics geek in me stared at them constantly. And what a study! Brothers. Twin brothers. Twin brother SEALS. Both injured. Different injuries, different movements. Different, but somehow very, very same. I stared more. And I stood in awe. I felt joy. I felt indebted. I felt honor. I was in awe of their quiet work ethic and the symbiotic nature of their world. I imagined their willingness to go back into service. For us. Awesome.
My pain was my pain, and it was why I was there. I wouldn’t discredit that. These men, however, gave me massive perspective. I could not wait to work hard again. I gave my self a dose of “Suck it up, Loser, and get on with your work !”
One day I winced while getting in the cold tub. I looked at the twin in the tub (as I rolled my eyes at myself) and said “This probably doesn’t feel so bad to you.” He replied, “Cold is cold to everyone, Ma’am. It’s just cold”. I don’t really think he meant it as a judgement call; I didn’t take it as such. It did drive home the old message of living in the moment. And that’s how I want to start off my year. Living in the moment. Not in some carpe-diem-skip-out-of-work-on-Tuesday way, but by bucking up on the unpleasant times that we all go through. God knows the twins and their comrades have to do it all the time.
I can calmly enjoy a tough moment in my life, knowing it will pass. I can get through; joy comes in the morning. “Buck up, Rosebud”.
I am truly blessed to have had Morgan and Marcus dropped in my path. I said “thanks” before I left…thanks for being there, thanks for their service…but it’s not enough. So again, THANK YOU from the bottom of my heart. You have challenged me to become a better person.