Category: family

courage, death, family, health, loss

My Year of Hopefulness – Bearing defeat without losing heart

Christa Avampato

“The greatest test of courage on the earth is to bear defeat without losing heart.” – R. G. Ingersoll

I read this quote last week on Twitter (http://www.twitter.com/tamow) and knew I wanted to blog about it though couldn’t decide on how to steer this post. This morning I sadly realized how critical it is for us to have courage. I am beginning to think that it might be the most vital skill we can develop and cultivate.

My mom let me know that my Great Aunt Lorraine passed away this morning. In her mid-80’s, she lived a largely healthy and incredible happy life, one that my grandmother would define as “good, clean living”. Honest, hard working, and loving, my Aunt Lorraine was thoughtful and generous, never forgetting a birthday or anniversary. I will miss her. She went through several bouts of cancer and chemotherapy eventually got the best of her.

She passed away from a from condition called MDS, a chemotherapy-induced form of leukemia. Chemotherapy is a poison, and the hope is that in targeted doses it will kill the cancer before killing the person being treated. Chemotherapy gave my Aunt Lorraine extra years that she would not have had otherwise, though I always find it discouraging to hear that science has failed us in some way. When she was first diagnosed, I was angry with her doctors. No wonder some people refuse treatment all together. Who wants those toxic substances floating around their bodies to cause unspeakable pain and suffering later on?

The art of medicine, and those who seek treatment through it, are engaging in a constantly morphing, emerging field. When someone is lost because science couldn’t save them, there is cause to feel defeated and disappointed by doctors, the very heroes who are supposed to literally save us. The truth is that we can’t give up on medicine, on the process of trial and error, on the development of new processes and treatments. Without taking these risks, advancement isn’t possible. And advancements let my family have my Aunt Lorraine for as long as we did, in relatively good health. She had great courage to continue fighting cancer and she never lost heart. Her doctors pushed forward doing the best they could to give her more time. They had great courage, too.

My Aunt Lorraine’s passing is also a reminder that our time here is short and precious. The times we’re living in are testing us to the nth degree, and many are walking around disillusioned and disappointed, in themselves, in the failings of their government and financial system, in their companies. I understand that feeling, and on occasion I share it.

Many times in our lives, we will have to bear defeat, learn from it, get up, and keep going. With hope of better days, it’s a little easier to keep going. As I’ve said before, hope isn’t a strategy for success. It’s a tool to make the journey easier, and it makes courage more attainable. My Aunt Lorraine had hope that the chemotherapy treatments she endured would help her live longer. And she was right. I am inspired by her ability to look defeat in the eye and hang on to her heart, her family. We must all do the same – the alternative is not an option if we intend to live as well and as long as she did.

career, change, experience, family, friendship, love, relationships, travel
Christa Avampato

“Man can touch more than he can grasp.” ~ Gabriel Marcel

We have a very short time on this planet. While we might think that 80 or 90 years sounds like such a long time, in reality it is the bat of an eye when considering the length of history. In our lifetimes, we’ll see and take part in many different experiences with many different people in many different places. And while we might have the instinct to take part in any and every way that we can, we just can’t. We have to choose where and how and on whom to spend our time and energy.

Where will we have the most impact? Where will we find the most joy? Do we care about life-long learning or is it connection with others that is most important to us? These types of questions are critical for us to consider and answer when we think about what we’d like to do with our time here.

There are millions of ways for us to make a difference – there are so many places, people, and things that will somehow enter our lives. The only question we really have to answer is, “which experiences we will witness and let pass and which are the ones that are we will hang onto for longer than a moment?”

books, change, family, Hachette Book Group USA, love, writer

My Year of Hopefulness – Follow Me by Joanna Scott

Christa Avampato

As a writer, I read a lot, always looking for new styles and interesting turns of phrase. Joanna Scott has become my new favorite author. I quickly ran through her book, Follow Me, in a week. I couldn’t put it down and wanted to enjoy every word of this consuming, at once bitter and sweet, story that spans several generations of women. Mistaken identities, family complications, love, and a sense of place dominate the books intertwining themes. At points I loved and hated all of the main characters, a sign that Joanna Scott is capable of creating personalities that are so true to life that I have found myself thinking about them as if they are my neighbors and friends.

Even more lovely and intriguing than the plot twists and turns, Joanna Scott uses language that made me realize that English can be just as beautiful as any romance language. Her poignant sentiments are dramatic without being saccharin. For example, early on in the book one of the characters runs away from her life and family after a traumatic event. “But still she runs. Running, running, running. How many lives start over this way, by putting one foot in front of the other?”

I considered how many of us today must start over because our investments have decreased so dramatically in value or because we, or someone in our family, lost a job. Starting over is frightening and painful. And yet, Joanna Scott is right: starting over is simply putting one foot in front of the other in a different direction. What I find so inspiring about Follow Me is that its characters are not afraid to start over. Indeed, they find it almost impossible to not immediately start over when life doesn’t go their way. A lesson that at least bears consideration, if not emulation, by all of us.

family, health

My Year of Hopefulness – Second Opinions

Christa Avampato

Mom’s had a bum knee for a few years that’s gotten progressively worse. It’s to the point now where to walk comfortably she needs a cortisone shot. Total knee replacement is inevitable and she is now an excellent candidate for the surgery. She went to see a physician who was recommended to her by her doctor. With a near absence of customer service, he told her she’d be back to work in two weeks. And he could probably schedule her for surgery some time in the next few months.

Total knee replacement is an incredibly invasive procedure. It hurts. A lot. And the only way through the pain is to keep moving. Lots of physical therapy, before and immediately after. To say that someone could be back to work in two weeks is ludicrous according to my dear friend Ken who works in a physical therapy clinic. “8-12 weeks is more like it,” he told me. “And those stairs in her house? She won’t be able to use them for a few weeks either.”

We went off to see a new surgeon today. I refused to let the first surgeon work on her. This second opinion was the right way to go – the doctor spent a lot of time with her, answered all her questions and concerns (and mine), and gave her the straight story about what she could and should expect. 8-12 weeks off from work and yes, she’d be best off to go to a nursing facility for a few weeks right after the surgery. Oh, and he can perform the surgery as early as May 18th. He recommended a class for her to go to at our local hospital’s joint clinic run by a top-notch physical therapist who will answer all of her questions. She left actually looking forward to total knee replacement.

On the train home, I thought a lot about second opinions and the importance of getting them for so many situations in our lives. It’s easy and less time consuming to snag the closest opinion and run with it. It’s easier still to not seek out any opinions and just do whatever we want. The value of two or more opinions is that you get a few different views of the world from varying vantage points and levels of experience.

With these remarkably uncertain times we’re living in right now, the value of second opinions can’t be overstated. We need to take a 360 degree look at every challenge and decision we’re facing and opinions from different, non-associated parties can help us do that. It’s advice we can all use, whether we’re considering a new knee, a new job, a new city, a new relationship. After all, “none of us is as smart as all of us.”

career, change, choices, family, friendship, movie, priorities

My Year of Hopefulness – 10 Items or Less

Christa Avampato

Phil Terry recommended the movie 10 Items or Less on his Facebook page. It is one of those exceptional indie films that slipped by me and I am glad Phil encouraged his friends to see it. In the movie, the two main characters discuss 10 items or less of things they love, hate, can’t do without, etc.

It’s a poignant and revealing premise. In a few short words, these lists can get at the heart of what’s really important to you. So here are my 3 lists of 10 items or less: things I love, things I need to do in my life, and impacts I’d like to have.

Things I love to do
Write
Develop new business ideas
Research
Read
Meet new people
Travel
Volunteer
Organize

Things I need to do in my life
Start my own business
Own the place where I live
Write and publish books
Fall in love for life
Travel a lot
Learn to play an instrument well

Impacts I’d like to have
Live an extraordinary life
Help other people live extraordinary lives
Help other people start their own businesses so they can be independent and create their own lives on their own terms
Further the cause of creativity and innovation

career, charity, community, community service, family, philanthropy, volunteer, women

My Year of Hopefulness – Women in Need

Christa Avampato

Yesterday I participated in an event at work as part of my women’s networking group. We provided workshops, some career coaching, and a healthy dose of encouragement to women who are in homeless shelters, unemployed, and who need a hand up in life. My networking group goes by the acronym WIN (Women’s Integration Network).

I had volunteered to have a 1-on-1 lunch with one of the women who were visiting our office for the day. I was paired up with a woman who had an 11 year old daughter. Married, both she and her husband have been unemployed for some time. No college education, with a goal of being a social worker. We were joined by another woman who didn’t have a lunch buddy. She had an 11 year old brother she was taking care of as well as a 1 year old daughter. She lives in a homeless shelter and began taking care of her brother after her mother had a nervous break-down. The father of her child is incarcerated, out of the picture. She hasn’t had work in a while either, citing affordable and hard-to-come-by childcare as a major obstacle. She wants to go to school to be a nurse. Both are 25 years old.

What was I going to say to these women? How could I relate? How could I even begin to understand how difficult it is for them to just get up out of bed in the morning?

And then one of the women, the one who wants to be a nurse, said to me “Your name tag – you’re from Women in Need.” (Women In Need is the community group they belong to that helps these women find jobs, get money for school, and provides emotional support.)

“No, I work here in this office building,” I replied.

“But your name tag says – WIN. That stands for Women in Need.”

“Oh! That’s also the acronym for our internal networking group here at this company. It stands for Women’s Integration Network.”

And with that simple revelation, I realized these women were not very different from me at all. My mom raised by sister, brother, and I on her own, no college education. We struggled with food and housing and health insurance. We had trouble keeping the lights and the heat on. Though that was many years ago, it’s still there in me. All of it. I remember being hungry and afraid and hopeless. I remember having dreams that seemed unlikely, foolish, and impossibly out of reach.

I told them about putting myself through school twice, about my mom, about the role of education in my life and the advantages it provided to me. I smiled and laughed and asked them about their kids and their daily lives. I listened to them talk about their frustrations and hopes. And all it took was time – that’s all it cost it me.

Through that lunch, I realized that there is a lot I can offer in these tough times, a lot of people I can help to live happier, healthier, more successful lives. And it doesn’t involve any kind of extraordinary act. All it takes is me sitting down with people who are down and out, and telling them about my life and how I made it better, how so many people helped me along the way.

It’s really just a way to pay forward all the blessings I have been fortunate enough to encounter. The people who helped me (my mom, my teachers, guidance counselors, some of my bosses, friends, authors, speakers, and the list goes on) were angels, and without them I am certain that I would have failed. This current recession provides us with an incredible opportunity to give and participate. It gives us a chance to repay the kindnesses we’ve witnessed.

Easter, family, holiday, mother, religion, travel

My Year of Hopefulness – A Little Bit of the Divine

Christa Avampato

This morning I was on the Metro-North train to visit my family for Easter. Two little boys, twins, got on the train with their mom, who looked exhausted and worn out, with a couple of new toys. Another woman walked by – she was one of those classic old New York women who you know from her tone of voice have lived in this big city for the better part of their lives. I am sure she talks to everyone she meets as if she’s known them forever, and given all she’s lived through, she’s entitled to state any and all of her opinions as fact. These women also exactly what to say and when to say – their timing and level of appropriateness is impeccable.

“Where’d you get those toys?” she asked the two children. “Mom or the Easter Bunny?”

“The Easter Bunny.”

“Huh. You know Moms are much better than the Easter Bunny. You can’t trust a rabbit but you can always trust you mother.”

The mother smiled, grateful and confused. The boys looked at her with surprise.

“What if I know the rabbit?” one of the boys asked.

“And if I can’t trust a rabbit, can I trust my cat?” the other boy asked.

“Well cats are tricky, too. Even mine. And I guess you can trust a rabbit if you know him, but my money’s on your mother.”

And with that very simple statement, she was gone. When I overhear conversations like this, I sometimes wonder if I’m witnessing a divine moment. Maybe that woman is some angel who showed up right when this mother needed her most. It’s possible that I watched too many episodes of Touched by an Angel with my own mom when I was little. It’s also possible that I so much want to believe in the divine in some form that I’m willing to tell myself these elaborate stories as if they are proof.

Springtime does this to us. I’m having a hard time remembering the last winter that lasted this long and seemed this cold and unrelenting. And I like cold weather and snow, thick sweaters and boots. But this Easter, I’m really ready to wish it a fond farewell, hoping it doesn’t rear its head until December.

I’m ready to see some new life sprout up from the Earth. I’m ready for New York to transform itself with flowering trees and sidewalk cafes. I’m ready for a little bit of the divine, or even seemingly divine, to touch our lives again and bring us some hope that we are moving forward and evolving, and the most powerful vehicle for that kind of message is in watching nature take on different hues and textures. I’d like to see all this hard work we’ve been doing during this cold winter come to fruition through a rebirth of heart and mind and spirit.

death, dying, experience, family, friendship, grateful, gratitude, human factors, loss, sadness

My Year of Hopefulness – Trade-offs

Christa Avampato

Be glad of life because it gives you the chance to love and to work and to play and to look up at the stars. –Henry Van Dyke

A friend of mine recently lost his father and as we talked about loss, we delved into the topic of trade-offs. It’s part of life to enjoy good, happy times for a while. And yet somewhere in the back of our minds, we are conscious of the fact that these moments are fleeting. Part of experiencing life, and love, and a connection to others also requires us to have the ability to let go. It’s an odd and scary thing if we think about it too long, so it usually comes to us as a passing thought, and then we send it away.

I used to have a very hard time dealing with the loss of someone. It seemed so unfair to me to have someone we love taken away. Was it really worth it to feel a connection to people? Did it make sense to spend so much of our very brief time on this planet cultivating relationships with others that eventually fall away, for one reason or another.

Many years ago, a friend of mine was dealing with the loss of his grandfather. Knowing how much he loved his grandfather and how close he was to him, I expressed my extreme sympathy for his loss. And without a tear in his eye or a choked up feeling in his throat, he said, “Please don’t be sorry. I’m not.” I just couldn’t understand. How on Earth could he not be sorry?

“I had this amazing person in my life for so many years. I was so lucky to know that kind of love and closeness to someone for so long. He taught me an amazing amount throughout my whole life that I’m able to pass on to others. He was such a gift and I’m so grateful that I had the opportunity to have him in my life.”

I think about this conversation every time I or someone I care about must deal with losing someone. It’s so hard to imagine letting go, and I find that emphasizing the gift of their presence in our lives for however long we have them eases the sadness. It doesn’t eliminate the sadness and it doesn’t betray the person’s memory. It just helps us keep perspective, and we helps us to begin to understand that it is all worth. The cultivation of relationships is what this life we live is all about. They are the very essence of human experience.

child, childhood, children, family, New York City

My Year of Hopefulness – Ball, Dog, and Oprah

Christa Avampato

I spent this weekend with my niece, Lorelei. She’s one year old and came to New York to visit me with my sister and brother-in-law. We’ve been playing in the park, at the Children’s Museum, FAO. She is running around, beginning to say words that actually sound like words, and tearing up everything in her path. She gives me hope.

It’s easy to look at the situation directly in front of us and feel like it might not be such a good idea to get out of bed. Spending time with children forces you to take the long view. Some day they will grow up, they will continue on their respective paths. Every day they are learning something new. They discover and wonder at every moment, and we discover along with them. Her best words at the moment are ball, dog, and Oprah. I’ve never had such fun say those words, or any words for that matter, as I have saying them with Lorelei.

I think whether or not you want to have kids of your own is irrelevant. I do think spending time with them in some way, whether they’re nieces and nephews, kids of friends, kids you coach, teach, or volunteer with, they will change your life by changing the way you view life and the world we live in. They really are the most optimistic people you can ever meet. And in time when so many people feel like they’re down and out, it helps to spend time with kids who feel that their best times are yet to come.

education, encouragement, family, hope, school

My Year of Hopefulness – Tacking into the Wind

Christa Avampato

My Uncle Tom talks a lot about tacking into the wind. He likes boats, or at least boat metaphors. When I graduated from college he wrote me a message on a greeting card that I still think about. “The winds are always on the side of the ablest navigator. Sail on.” I still get a little emotional reading that quote.

When I graduated from college I was really afraid of my future. Or rather, I was really afraid of having no future. I’d spent my entire life in school, and I did very well on that path. Now, school was over, for now, and I was completely lost. I didn’t know what I wanted to be, where I wanted to live, or how I’d survive. I knew I made it through a very tough curriculum with my sanity relatively intact, though I had no idea what I planned to do with this degree I held in my hands. It really was just a piece of paper with my name written in curly writing. I got to graduation and realized that I had spent four years just trying to get to graduation without much thought of what I’d do once I was a graduate. I did the only thing I knew how to do – I put one foot in front of the other and kept going.

Life would be terrific and easy if we just knew where we were (point A) and where we wanted to go (point B) and then just traveled in a straight line from A to B. It doesn’t work that way – or at least it never has worked that way for me. I’ve been traveling around the country, with the extent of my belongings able to fit into a car. I’ve had one fantastic opportunity after another, though I never really worked to get any of them. I was always working hard to get somewhere and something else, and always ended up in a place and doing things that were so much better than what I had planned. This has always been true. I never once planned any single thing better than the world planned something else for me.

I’ve spent my life tacking into the wind, trying to be the best darn navigator out there. My greatest experiences have been those not found on the path from A to B, but the path from A to X to G to M to Z. I plan for B, though sometimes it never shows itself or when I get there I find it’s not what I wanted after all. M looks like a much nicer place to land, at least for a while.

This is not to say that the plan doesn’t matter. It plays a role. I’ve developed certain skills because I thought they’d help me get to B. And they were very useful for M and Z and everything in between. I try to stay as sharp as possible with my eyes and ears wide open so I can grab a hold of that next gust of wind that I need. The plan prepares me, makes me aware of my surroundings.

The treasures and pleasures in life are found along the zig-zag path we take, not in the point-to-point. I try to always remember that, especially when I’m frustrated or confused or plain lost. There is a wind that will carry us up and over and through – our only job is to make sure we recognize it when it heads our way and be ready to raise up that sail.

The photo above can be found at: http://www.discount-florida-vacations.com/images/sailboat_sunset.jpg