Maybe it is that simple.

A few years ago I joined a group of women at a “thank you for your commitment and service to education” brunch at the school district superintendent’s home.  There were administrators, teachers, support staff, most with many years of service educating our children.  We enjoyed good food, good conversation, and the connection that comes with a shared purpose.

I said my “good-byes” and stood to leave.  On my way to the door one of my colleagues said, “Before you go, give us some words of wisdom.  You always have such good things to say.”  There are a dozen reasons why a sudden, unexpected request requiring a quick, verbal response turns my brain into a black hole and my mouth inoperable that I won’t go into now.  All the visiting had stopped and all eyes were on me.  I think I said something like a profound “Uh……….” which bought me a little time.  And then it came to me.  A question I had been asking myself almost daily for the past several months.  So I said:

“Nearly every day before I walk into school I ask myself, ‘I wonder what would happen if we were all just nice to each other today?'”

Everyone smiled, made a few comments, and I made my exit.  The question stayed with me.  I hear it in my head at work, at board meetings, listening to the news, observing parents and their children, and listening to political candidates.  What if it really is that simple?  As simple as being nice to each other.  How might things change if we were just nice to each other. . .

  • in discussion and debate
  • in difference and disagreement
  • during conflict and confrontation
  • with adversaries and antagonists
  • with family, friends, and even strangers

Perhaps Plato had pondered this question when he said, “Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.”

Altered Again

I never met Jill Hollis.  In fact I had never heard of Jill Hollis.  That changed last Thursday.  I was in the car running errands, listening to bits and pieces of “The Story” with Dick Gordon.  I found myself in back story, not knowing where it began.  It became clear as the story continued that Jill Hollis had, for some time, struggled with some kind of disability and in the midst of that determined that she would not live a diminished life.

I sat in the car outside my next stop totally absorbed by the archived interview with this courageous woman.  As the story neared an end Dick informed his listeners that Jill Hollis had been diagnosed four years ago with ALS, Lou Gehrig’s disease.  He spoke of the blog she created as her disease progressed.  And then he was expressing his sadness and sympathy that Jill Hollis had finished her battle two days earlier, Tuesday, August 31.  I was caught totally off guard and felt a sudden sadness that I was only now discovering this woman and her story.

Jill Hollis hovered in my thoughts for the rest of the day.  As soon as I could I went in search of her blog.  I wanted to hear her words, have a sense of her journey, and remember her.  The blog home page loaded.  The title:  Altered.  She had captured her experience in a single, clear, complete word.  I read her thoughts and her family’s in the days leading up to and following her death.  I found courage, fear, determination, growth, humanity, all expressed with unedited honesty as ALS continued to alter her.

Jill’s blog title has stayed with me, surfacing for another look from time to time.  Altered.  Aren’t we all “altered” by living?  We come here so innocent and in a very short time begin to lose that innocence to experience.  Don’t we all, like Jill, have the chance to decide we will live fully and undiminished in the face of loss and limitation.

Sally Jesse Raphael, the talk show host of 25 years ago, welcomed a mother and her 9 year son on her show.  Both had been severely burned and disfigured in a gas explosion in their home a few years before.  The son had had multiple surgeries with more to come to remove scarring and rebuild his face.  An audience member asked the mother how she had helped her son cope with the stares, comments, and questions that often came when they were in public.  The mom responded, “I’ve told him everyone has scars.  We just wear ours on the outside.”  What an insightful mom!  And she’s right.  We do all have our scars, left by the life decisions and experiences that have altered us.  Being altered scars, but it also allows us to discover our own strength and resilience.  And then, we are altered again.

I don’t know Jill Hollis, but her story has altered me.  My thoughts and prayers are with her family during their unspeakable loss as Jill has been altered again to a journey without ALS.  Thank you Jill.