Connie nodded enthusiastically at my assertion that I was as big a pain in the ass as she sometimes could be, she was a bit short of breath at the time, but she nodded her head enthusiastically and offered a big, wide, smile. I sailed into her room with Red ahead of me, and sad, “we are here.” That was all it took.
Connie has a sharp and ready sense of humor, even when in great pain. Maria and Red and I descended on the poor woman again today shortly after lunch, we didn’t even have to say anything, she hooked up her oxygen tent, sighed, and got up. We walked more than twice as far as yesterday, this time all the way to the Mansion administrative offices all the way down the hall, to see the shocked staffers there.
Maria and I both believe she already looks so much better than she did a few days ago, when severe back pains – she pulled all of the muscles in her back, and has severe spinal issues.
This sidelined her kept her from walking for nearly two weeks. Connie has a number of chronic illnesses and it was especially dangerous for her to be immobile, so the staff was gently but firmly urging her to start walking, the doctors and physical therapists are convinced it will heal her back problems. and help her other issues.
Connie was very much buoyed by what are now hundreds of letters from all over the country encouraging her, supporting her, telling her the stories of other lives. She reads every one and tries to answer every one.
“It seems that Connie has a lot of sisters out there,” said one very pleased Mansion administrator.
I should be clear that the person most responsible for Connie’s walking is Connie herself.
She is strong-willed, sharp as a new razor and determined to live her life as best she can in the Mansion. She has made scores of mittens, hats and sweaters for residents, sick children, and people in hospitals. Your wool and patterns have made this possible. This has given Connie renewed focus in her life, and the opportunity to contribute, something that is important to her. The pain has been too great lately for her to work.
Red is playing a major role in this very affirming experience. He and Connie have formed a special attachment, and it is almost overwhelming to see the degree to which Red has joined in this support of Connie’s walking, he rushes into her room, pokes his head into her lap as if to say “let’s go, let’s go. We have work to do.” Red loves work, and he has absorbed the spirit of this, he rushes back and forth, from Connie to me, up front with my camera.
The Mansion staff has gently and persistently encouraged Connie in every possible way, they are a powerful cheering section.
Maria and Connie love one another, they have formed a special bond of trust and communication. Connie opens up to Maria in ways that are beyond me, and Connie and I are close. Maria has a great deal of love and feeling in her, as I can testify, and that is a power all of its own.
On every visit, Connie has a letter from the Army Of Good to read to her and show her or me. It is a beautiful thing to see. Your letters and messages spur her on, lift her up, give her strength. (You can write her at 11 S. Union Street, Cambridge, N.Y., 12816.)
It is too early, of course, for the taking of bows. Red, as I have said, is a remarkable creature, he is an empath, he can connect to people in the most intense of ways.
Connie has some hard days ahead of her. It is humbling to see how hard it is for her to walk, how short her breath is, how she has to focus on every step, how tethered she is to her oxygen tanks. I have no doubt she will get there, carried on a cloud of love and encouragement and community.
It is nice to have so many sisters, a powerful thing all of its own.