I remember her so clearly. She was an African American grandmother sitting up in her hospital bed bright and alert awaiting surgery. Not routine by any means. She had diabetes and had developed a complication that meant she would lose her leg from the knee down. So, we talked about her anticipation of all this would mean and how she would need to ask for help in ways that weren’t comfortable for her. She told me about her family – all her sisters, nieces, daughters, sons and brothers. I remember being impacted by her bravery.
As I entered the room I said, “Well, you are the richest woman I know!”
She greeted me with a puzzled look and then smiled her broad generous smile and laughed. She knew what I meant . . . rich in family, in heart, in abundant love around her.
Perspective makes all the difference.