I have a dear friend, a friend who I met three years into my 54 years of marriage. My friend and I marched through childrearing together, calling each other during our baby’s naps with the reassuring words that it might have been a tough day, but this too would pass.
We have shared deep secrets with each other, counting on a possible different perspective seen during another’s eyes while safe in the knowledge that our secret, our problem, would go no further. Our children played together, and our husbands had and continue to have adventures together.
We regard ourselves as sisters, and as sisters everywhere, we’ve learned a few things from each other. My friend has been ill for a while; it is an illness that occasionally requires hospital visits. During a recent hospital stay, I visited with my sister and from her, learned a valuable lesson.
Hospital stays involve multiple medical professionals entering the room, performing the necessary tasks.
During my visit, various people cycled in and out of the room, many calling my friend “Honey.” The greeting seemed undignified to me, but my friend was not insulted, saying that many patients don’t have family to visit, and any form of endearment is welcomed. At times my friend nodded off, only to be awakened by yet another person asking her questions, or checking her vitals, or equipment, or a myriad of other needful things.
Despite being exhausted and possibly in pain, my friend answered each question thoughtfully, never annoyed while others went about their job. When an IV needed to be changed, she quietly endured a needle inserted into her already sore arm. Throughout it all, my friend and I maintained a conversation, carving out a visit that enriched us both.
In a painful, stressful situation, my friend maintained courtesy and grace, never lashing out at others. She encouraged smiles and conversation, allowing the better parts of the day to seep into her room. She was there, help was there, her sister was there, and she focused on that.
Winston Churchill said that courage is grace under fire. In a situation that was concerning, stressful and exhausting, my sister/friend focused very little on her condition, but more on ordinary life, an ordinary conversation between friends, a connecting conversation, a conversation that left us both calmer, more content and more able to face the future.
Thank you sister/friend for the gift of ordinary, a joy of connection, an example of grace.
Cindy Arp, teacher/librarian, retired from Knox County Schools. She and husband Dan live in Heiskell.