Have
you ever thought about how life is a story and although you are the main
character, you have a full cast of supporting characters? As your supporting
characters move in and out of your life, they shift your trajectory, sometimes
slightly, but other times turning it into a new direction. Our heroes (unless
they fall from grace) affect us positively and put us on an upward course. The
villains, sometimes disguised as friends, can sink us to abject misery.
Of
course, there are walk-on characters who are so unimportant that they don’t make
any impressions. Occasionally, these casual passersby will play a pivotal role
in your story.
In all
good stories, you need a romantic lead. Of course, that would be Jim. He had so
many characteristics that made him perfect for the role. Our backgrounds were
similar in some ways and polar opposites in others. We were both from big
musical families, but I had lived in one house throughout my entire childhood, but Jim had lived in several states and numerous houses—or even under bridges and
under trees. Jim was intelligent, musically talented, generous to a fault,
highly principled, honest, and had a big heart. Our story took a Nicholas
Sparks turn, ending with a flood of tears and sadness. Jim was the character in
my story that taught me that love could endure through good times and bad.
Jim’s
life, dementia, and his death catapulted my story into a different genre. I had
been living a dull, routine life: waking up, going to work, spending my
evenings at home doing a few chores, watching some TV, reading my book, sleeping,
repeat, repeat, repeat.
I
literally walked into a new chapter of my life when Jim and I went to our first
Memory Walk on a hot September day in 1998. And there, I met a feisty
seventy-some-year-old ball of fire named Helen Hanneford. As we proceeded to
walk from Liberty Park to the downtown area, Helen would occasionally blow her
hunting horn. We walked into the VFW and a man told her if she would blow her
horn, they would take up a collection. She was happy to oblige. I only saw her
one other time, but I never forgot her. I opened our local newspaper earlier
this month and read a death notice for Helen Hanneford, Slater. She passed away
at age 93 on January 30, 2020, at her home. Yes, I would just imagine she still
lived at home and occasionally blew that hunting horn. Helen was the character
who taught me that volunteering could be joyful.
Being a
part of the Alzheimer’s Walk community of volunteers brought another inspiring
character into my world, Ted Distler. Ours began as a friendly rivalry—Sedalia
Walk VS Jefferson City Walk, but rivalry aside we wholeheartedly supported each
other’s fundraisers and walks. Ted was one of those guys who always had a joke,
a hearty laugh, and hugs for his friends. Ted was in survival mode as he cared
for the love of his life who had Alzheimer’s.
We
talked on the phone frequently as we kept abreast of how things were going in
our separate lives. Ted and I would occasionally “meet in the middle” for
breakfast and conversation. “Have you seen that movie The Notebook?” he asked me one time. I told him I had—another one
of those sad Nicholas Sparks’ stories. “I hope it’s that way for Norma and me,”
he said. He wanted them to die at the same time, so he wouldn’t have to know
life without her. As his story ended, he passed away a short time before his
beloved wife. He came close to the Notebook
ending he wanted. Ted was the character that taught me to treasure my friends
because they leave a gaping hole in our lives once they are gone.
In
2001, I became an advocate on the national level. At my first Alzheimer’s Forum
in DC, I met Jane, Kathy, and Sarah. I immediately felt a connection to these
three women unlike any friendship I had ever had in my life. Our individual
journeys connected into a shared sisterhood. We are truly sisters of the heart.
Each year, our secret radar allows us to find each other quickly in the crowd
of more than 1,000 advocates—all dressed in purple. It seems that we can pick
up our conversations from the previous year almost in mid-sentence. These three
characters have taught me that the closest friends can live the farthest away.
Life
just wouldn’t be a story without all of the amazing characters who walk in and
out of our lives.
Copyright
© February 2020 by L.S. Fisher
#ENDALZ
Linda, as always your writing comes from the heart, and I appreciate your ability to capture the essence of friendship that we were fortunate to have developed through our advocacy.Jane.
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