It’s 9 o’clock on Saturday night. Me and the open road, an hour left to go on a four-hour drive home from a celebration of life earlier that day.
I’m finishing my sour cream glazed donut and peppermint tea. I’m tired. The donut was meant to fix that (it didn’t). The podcasts, audiobooks and music are all getting on my nerves after a day of driving. It’s dark and I’m ready to be home.
Then, out of nowhere, a text from my mom.
She’s always up late after my dad goes to bed. I have an hour to kill, so I call her back.
I’m not usually up late and I’m certainly not on the phone. I can remember one other time in the last year where we had a moment like this. It’s special – like it was just the two of us in the world.
It reminded me of that scene in Sleepless in Seattle – Meg Ryan driving in the dark, listening to the radio show like she’s the only one tuned in.
Mom’s been attending a respiratory rehab.
It’s part physio, part breathing bootcamp, designed to help people with everything from asthma to age-related lung changes strengthen their lungs, build stamina, and feel stronger every day.
She starts telling me about the characters she sees there, and suddenly I feel like I’m listening to the plot of a sitcom starring Betty White and Tim Conway.
She paints a picture of each one.
The couple who attend together. He doesn’t speak English, so she does it for him.
Richard, who she found looking confused in the hospital lobby. It’s a beautiful hospital. It’s also a labyrinth, like you’re living in an MC Escher painting. She loops her arm in his and they find their way together.
The stretching. The breathing. The treadmill that won’t go faster than 1.5 mph.
And then there’s my mom, walking beside Jack. She turns, looks at him, and says:
“Wanna race?”
Bahaha. Now you know where I get my wicked sense of humour 😉
Everyone is there for their own reason.
Some are facing serious health conditions.
All of them showing up to do the work three times a week. Counting on each other to do the same.
And just like that, a community is born.
Last week, I wrote about the people all around me who’ve inspired me lately. High performers. Achievers making their mark in the world, unknowingly downloading to me their recipe for success.
But this week, it wasn’t high-octane achievers that left a mark. It was quiet resilience. Steady effort. A room full of strangers who keep showing up, for themselves, and for each other.
I’m struck by how I’ve never met these people and how beautiful they all seem, living a lesson of resilience, strength and community.
This…while driving home from a celebration of life…for an incredible human being who’s moved on to whatever comes next.
The rest of us? We have the gift of being here. We can show up, do the hard things, connect with strangers, and bring our good nature and humour to this wild, beautiful human experience.
Mary
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