Heads Up

Heads

 Up

Look at those beautiful women, all I can say is Wow! 

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Here we are, Gail and me in my kitchen.  They say that a picture can tell a story.  I wonder what do you see? I see two happy women who love each other and are really happy to be together.  They both look like they have normal, everyday, boring lives.  

But wait! What is BELOW?  Doesn't everyone have something underneath their outer veneer, a place where secrets and wounds hide?

                
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     My husband and I pulled up to the Hilton in Waikoloa, Hawai'i on a beautiful, sunny afternoon.  Standing there in all her glory was Gail.  It was the first time I'd seen her since she lost her leg over a year ago.  I thought that I would only be able to look at the prosthetic, like an old man that can only stare at your boobs.  But really, what I saw was this shining, glorious woman who seemed to be saying, "Here I am, all of me, I have nothing to hide." She had her arms outstretched and a smile as big as Texas.  I jumped out of the car and ran to her and gave her a big hug.  

     I had met Gail a little over two years ago. She came with my friend, Diana and another woman.  They were traveling east and had stopped by to see me in Albuquerque, New Mexico.  I was graduating with my Master's degree and they came to the ceremony.  We ended up really bonding in a very short period.  Gail liked to take naps, she couldn't go as hard as the other girls, she was sensitive and I could really relate.  We were very similar. I hoped that we would be friends for a long time.


   We kept in touch through Facebook, believe it or not. She had posted her journey since the day she got T-boned on her Harley.  I read in horror as she announced they had cut off her leg.  She then proceeded to have seven surgeries, and was in the hospital for over forty three days.  And throughout it all, she was uplifted, of good spirits and I developed such an admiration for her.  She was such a great teacher for me.  Several months ago she talked about a huge gash on her stump.  It was a raw, ugly gash across the tissue right below her knee.  It was severely infected and looked awful.  As we sat at my kitchen table talking, we were in awe that we could be together again. She removed her prosthesis and showed me how that gash was now just a tiny wound, only a few inches long.  She explained how the prosthesis worked and showed me the insignia, "Winter", explaining that the material that wrapped around her upper thigh had actually been made by the people that made "Dolphin Tale".  At the end of her prosthesis is a screw.  I am not kidding.  It's a screw that fits inside the prosthesis and attaches her upper leg to the device.  At the bottom of her prosthesis is a foot.  She wears a shoe on it and for some reason, that really touches me. Its a way to say, "I'm normal."

     Gail and I have a special connection because we're both in AA.  She has twenty three years sobriety and I have seventeen.  There is a meeting that I love down by the beach.  It's at a church and the meeting is held outside under the stars. We sit at a long wooden table and drink coffee and share our stories.  I asked Gail to come with me.  She was delighted to go to a meeting (that's what us AA's do) and grateful to have some space from her family. 


    The leader, that night, asked her to share her story for about fifteen minutes.  After we opened the meeting with our prayers, and she was introduced, she stood up.  She told her story and everyone was riveted in their chair.  She's a big girl to begin with, at least 5'9" and she has a booming voice that everyone could hear.  She talked about how four years ago, she'd come home and found her husband dead on the floor from suicide and then one year ago she had had the accident.  A 65 year old woman who had just gotten out of an eye appointment ran a light and hit Gail.  She talked about how her faith in God has grown and how her spirituality has intensified. She shared that a few months ago she fell into a funk and that, after a few weeks, she remembered to ask for God's help.  She immediately felt better and again learned that all she had to do was to ask for help.
     Gail knows that having a prosthesis wasn't something she wanted or planned, but that she has to ACCEPT what has happened.  Right now, she is not in love with the idea of needing medical care for the rest of her life, of not living the life she was used to.  For her, everything, and I mean, EVERYTHING, has changed.  

     I would like to tell you that Gail is a uniquely powerful woman.   She's not.  She's just like you and me and has feelings. She has good and bad days.  She feels fat on some days and gloriously happy when the scale says she lost weight.  She cares about her family and she cares about her friends.  She gets tired and angry and frustrated and lonely.  She knows that she is a woman amongst women.  What sets her story apart, for me, is that she grasped God's hand.  Although she's not religious, she is deeply spiritual. When her husband died, she got through that.  Now that she's lost her leg, she'll tell you outright that that was not in her plans. But what she did do is  she reached out for something that was more powerful than her and held on for dear life.  She holds on to that hand because she knows she cannot get through this by herself. And that is why I feel so blessed to know her and to be part of her journey.  Because she has reminded me that I'm not alone.  I can also reach out to something that is greater than me and I do not have to face this life alone. Thanks Gail for a very special gift.

   So, when I titled the piece "Heads Up" I thought that most of us tend to only look at the surface.  I guess that looking down at Gail's leg is a little uncomfortable.  It doesn't fit the paradigm.  She's not Barbie.  I want to remind all of us to take the time, talk to your Friends, talk to people you don't know and see what is "below".

Please leave a comment about how Gail's story has touched you.  Remember that I'll choose randomly from your comments for a chance to win a pound of Kona Coffee.  Thanks Gail for letting me publish your story, I love you very much.