Back in January I did some training at work and in one of the sessions of the day we were asked to think of someone who we considered to be our hero. We were then asked to put that person aside for a moment and think about the next person who came to mind. I believe the thinking behind it was that the first person is often your mum (correct!) and the second is a person who you truly aspire to be. I’d love to read more into the thinking behind it but my Google research techniques have failed on that account (although I did stumble upon this nice video about a ripple of kindness, which reminded me of this post I wrote!).
I found this concept interesting. It may be obvious to you that my number 1 was my mum. She is my daily inspiration, there’s no doubt about it. Does this mean that my number 2 is actually my number 1? That she’s been ‘bumped down’ my hero list? I had a think about it and for a very short while I panicked “she’s not my number one?!” which I then laughed about (internally of course, I was still in a quite room of colleagues who might have thought a sudden outburst of laughter a bit strange) because it doesn’t actually change anything. It was her after all that inspired us both to do this project and to keep it going. It does however, make me hold hero 2 in even higher regard, if that’s even possible, and I was eager to explore my second choice and spend some time thinking about him.
It was easy. The person was already there in my mind and I found that I really wanted to talk about him to my colleagues and I gushed about how great he is. I can’t remember exactly what I told them but here are some reasons why he is my hero.
- He helps people every day: his wife, neighbours, friends. Shopping, errands, repairs – an endless list and countless hours
- His helpfulness is unremitting. I mean, he probably doesn’t even give it a second thought; to him being helpful is just how he lives his life and always has done. He doesn’t seem to tire of it or if he does you would never know.
- He is humble
- He gives great hugs
- He always says he loves me
So, Grandad Tom, this one is dedicated to you! Laura and I have always talked to each other about how great you are. We love you so much!
P.S. you still owe me a dance!
I’m worried! 34 days since I posted the Australia parcel for this RAK and I’ve not heard anything. Here are possible scenarios:
- It’s on its way – I have no idea how long it takes to get to a remote island off the coast of Brisbane!
- I got the wrong address (I didn’t ask my cousin as I wanted it to be a surprise)
- It’s arrived but they didn’t notice my name in tiny print on the customs sticker and haven’t shared it on social media, for whatever reason
- It’s arrived but hasn’t found its way to them (I have emailed their place of work/address to see if it’s arrived but have had no response).
- It arrived but Australian customs have rejected it (tea bags allowed?) and it’s on its way back.
So, M & N, when this project is revealed and you still haven’t got your surprises, I am so sorry! I owe you some chocolate/sweets/cups of tea upon your return, if not before!
In the meantime, I really hope it arrives!
“I fell. My chair wasn’t positioned correctly and one leg went off the patio into the grass. I’m stuck on the floor still in my chair, I don’t know how to move to get up. Many years ago I’d have jumped up quickly hoping no one had noticed. I might even have laughed about it with my friends and they’d have cracked jokes about how clumsy I was. Today isn’t like that. Today I’m stuck where I am and I can’t move. The girl I’m with isn’t strong enough to help me alone; she makes sure I’m not hurt while looking around and thinking about what to do.
A woman sees me and heads over, her children strapped in a pushchair are content with ice cream and sleep. She is a similar build to my companion but together they can probably help me. They move the chair from under me and each place a hand under my arms to help me to my feet. I’m unsteady and nervous. What if I fall again? I daren’t hold on to the chair or table. Slowly they guide me to a chair and reassure me that I can sit. I imagine I feel heavy in their arms. Years ago I could have picked them both up at the same time. I wonder if they can see how I used to be strong. I’m trembling but I start to calm down as I feel the chair beneath me. Finally, I’m sitting again and my coffee arrives. The lady asks if I’m ok then walks back to her children. I breathe a long sigh.”
Sometimes I like to pretend I’m someone else and wonder about how they think. Usually I do this because I’m a worrier and I hate to think I might have upset somebody or have done something they’ve not liked. Occasionally, I imagine I’m the person I’ve just passed in the street – sometimes I imagine their whole life. Today, after I helped an elderly gentleman up into a chair I imagined I was him & wondered what he would have thought of the situation he found himself in.
I do that a lot when I think of her too. What would she make of this & that? How would she respond when I tell her X or Y? I guess that’s fairly common when we think of the dead but perhaps we should do it more with the living too. It certainly helps to gain a new perspective.