He Picked Up A Penny…
Happy Sunday to all of you! It’s been a while since I’ve had the chance to write. The month of February was incredibly tough for our family. From an eye infection that temporarily claimed more than 50% of my vision in one eye to all three of us battling COVID over the course of three weeks, at times it felt like we just couldn’t get ahead. We made it to March and, although we all were testing negative, both my husband and I had some lingering things that made nights and early mornings unpleasant. It took a while for our energy to move back toward normal, our lungs needed time to recover and the lingering cough was painful.
Last week was the first week I can honestly say I felt back to myself. As I returned to my job and some of the other organizational work I do, several people asked how I was doing. The first answer that came to mind each time was, “I can see and I can breathe.” You see over the last 5-6 weeks, I came face to face with what it meant not to have some of the basic things we tend to take for granted. Waking up one morning unable to see as I normally could and hearing the doctor suggest that my vision loss might be permanent and unsure if the condition would worsen or spread, caused me to wonder what life might be like if I could no longer look thru the lens of my camera or see the beautiful faces of my husband or precious son. Sitting in the chair of the ophthalmologist waiting for another doctor to come, I wept. After taking a few moments, I gathered myself and decided that rather than worrying about what I might have been losing, I would take every moment to appreciate what I had not yet lost.
Suddenly my son’s quirky style of dress seemed more perfect. Noticing the imperfections of my husband’s beard became a place of bitter-sweet joy. The view of the sunrise over Copley Lawn from my 2nd floor window became one of my most treasured morning moments and worth getting up a few moments earlier than I normally would. I was still unsure what the final prognosis would be. And the unknown has a way of humbling you.
Similarly COVID reminded me of just how fragile any of our bodies can become. I made it through nearly 2 weeks with no symptoms as I cared for my family and then, in a matter of a few hours, everything changed. Fever, sore throat, an inability to take deep breaths without being thrown into deep and painful coughing fits. Over the course of several days, breathing became an intentional effort and some days I felt like I couldn’t breathe enough. From time to time, I could get near the window at just the right time and take a breath that felt like it filled my lungs. I can’t describe the sheer exhilaration from the ability to take a deep breath. For some it might have seemed like a small thing. In times past it had been a small thing for me. But in those moments, it was a a major feat and reason to be thankful.
Even in the midst of what was no doubt the most difficult sickness I’ve ever endured, I continually reminded myself of how fortunate I was that my entire family had the benefit of being fully vaccinated… that what we were enduring didn’t even begin to compare to what so many endured and died from in the earliest days of the Pandemic. I remembered my father-in-law, my cousins and close family friends who are included in the nearly 1 Million people who have died from COVID in the United States.
...And I was grateful.
You may be reading all of this and wondering what it all has to do with the title. Yesterday, my son Alex and I went out on an “adventure.” We boarded the bus to head toward Chinatown in search of dumplings and the Cherry Blossom events. At one of the stops on the G-2 route a young couple boarded. They only rode a couple of stops until they got off… the young lady first and then the young man. She moved forward and away from the bus quickly. But just as he stepped off, he glanced at the ground, walked a step and then glanced again. He stooped down. I followed him with my eyes to see what he was reaching for. What could be worth his falling behind the young lady with whom he seemed so enchanted? It was a penny… a penny more shiny than what I would have expected to be on the ground, but a penny nonetheless. He picked it up, slipped it into his pocket and caught up with his date. I smiled recalling a scholarship acceptance speech I heard more than 20 years ago wherein a young lady shared an adage from one of her elders who would always tell her “pennies make dollars.”
I doubt the young man actually needed the penny in the moment, but the way that he intentionally “came back” for it suggested to me that he understood the importance of appreciating even the smallest elements of life…the things we take for granted without a thought. He understood that we can literally wake up one morning void of the things, people, and abilities we thought would always be within our grasp and control…
He understood that, even though it was small, it held value and that paired with many more like it or larger currency it could add up to be something major. Perhaps he understood that one penny could be the difference between one being a millionaire or not. When you think about it that way, a penny becomes pretty powerful.
I’m not sure what your “penny” might be. I didn’t even realize mine before here recently… and I’m sure I have more pennies… more small things that I overlook, disregard, take for granted or feel entitled to. I think we all probably do. As you navigate your week and move toward the final stretch of this first year, I hope you will take a moment to reflect and to consider the small forgotten or undervalued things in your life that are worth going back to pick up, even if it causes you to temporarily fall behind the people or things with which you are presently enchanted.
Have a great week and take good care…