BRODY: Afraid of what?
Published 10:33 am Thursday, November 7, 2019
It is Sunday and snow is falling heavily out my window. The spreading whiteness creates the perfect time to sit in my chair and write.
I keep mulling a quote I saw recently: “Don’t be afraid that you’re life will end. Do be afraid that you’re life will never begin.”
One of the saddest things I see around here is for elderly residents to get that far away look in their eye and say, “Oh, how I wish I’d had the courage to move to the big city and try out for the Rockettes. I think I was good enough.”
She never left her small rural town.
There is a man now deceased who was so addicted to cigarettes he smoked four packs a day.
The doctor told him if he didn’t quit smoking he would die. This man looked at this life and realized both his marriage and his job were causing great stress. He hated the city.
He quit cold turkey, without help.
He got a divorce and moved to the country. Bought a farm and cattle.
But most importantly, he started to run.
When he started running, he could not breathe going to his mailbox and back. But he kept at it and a few years later, he ran his first marathon.
Ultimately, he became a world class runner. He lived to be 87.
Had he not had the grit to completely change his life top to bottom his lungs would have given up trying to support him.
I have always wanted to skydive. It was on my bucket list.
Somewhere along the line, I got congestive heart failure.
As my 85th birthday rolled around, I told my family I wanted to sky dive. Shocked, they still looked into it.
It was expensive and it would be unsafe to do.
I was disappointed, but then had a great substitute solution. There’s a place in Denver where they train jumpers and divers.
In this wind tunnel there’s a large fan that creates a strong wind. When you enter, you are airborne for a good amount of time.
The whole family went to take pictures of me flying. It was glorious and worth the risk.
I will never forget how it felt to be suspended and totally unattached even to Earth.
What is it that keeps us on the safe side of life?
Is it fear?
Is it the responsibility we feel for dependents?
Is it that it usually means a change and we usually don’t like change?
Or have we purposefully squashed our dreams and life to a bland existence because it’s just easier that way?
Let me tell you something. When I reached that moment when I had to give it all up — house, farm, car, life friends — I thought I had met my match.
“I can’t do it!” I cried.
After my husband Gene died, I fell, ended up in the hospital and stubbornly admitted I had to live safely with others.
As I stepped inside Brookdale, I muttered to my family, “I’m only moving here to shut you guys up. But I’m not staying.”
Shortly, I was home.
That was six years ago. I began a brand new life at 82.
I feel like I have started over. Given up, been lost in loneliness, three times.
I believe the biggest leap of faith came when I had a dangerous surgery at Mayo Clinic.
My husband asked me if there was anything I wanted but never got to do.
I told him I had always wanted to live on a farm with a big old house and barn and animals and space.
We went to work looking and found my dream come true in Winchester. We bought it and it gave me hope for the future.
We were moving from a lush life on the island of Key Biscayne to a farm where nothing is provided.
It was work from day one. I have never been so happy in my life.
I felt finally I was at peace because I knew we belonged there.
And the young soldier who stepped on a bomb and lost his leg after a year of rehab and surgery, he thanked God for having this experience. He had to decide whether to be a cripple or start a brand new life teaching others how to walk, run, play sports, live with a false leg. This man had the courage to turn his life into a blessing.
Once again, I give you something to think about: “Don’t be afraid that your life will end. Do be afraid that your life will never begin.”
The view from the mountain is wondrous.
Jean Brody is a passionate animal lover and mother. She previously lived in Winchester, but now resides in Littleton, Colorado. Her column has appeared in the Sun for more than 25 years.