Heroes

What makes someone a hero? All too often those we think of as heroes because of their extraordinary contributions to society such as Babe Ruth, Franklin Roosevelt, and John Kennedy have rather fragile pedestals because their personal lives are fraught with lack of moral integrity. I won't even begin to list any modern day celebrities because we all know where that might lead to.

Neal Armstrong died this week. He is probably as close to a real hero as one might come and I wonder how many young people bothered to even ask who he was. Some of have a better sense of heroism when we refer to fire fighters, police officers, and, of course, our veterans as the real heroes in our society today.

I have a different kind of hero. Her name is Amy and she is fighting breast cancer as we speak. The good news is that she has as good a prognosis as can be had. The bad news is that the path she must travel to get there is riddled with road blocks and stones all along the way. First was the battle over insurance coverage, now the horrific side effects of chemo, followed by surgery and radiation.

So what defines a hero? Taking on a force seemingly greater than yourself, facing it head on and smashing it hard is a good start. Amy accepted her diagnosis and informed her friends and family with a don't worry about me. I'm going to be alright. I just have to go through a little treatment. I'll just shave my head when the hair starts to fall out and buy a few funky hats. I intend to keep my sense of humor throughout the ordeal and face it with a good laugh. And so far she has done exactly that. I am sure she has the other patients smiling with her on her chemo days.

Continuing to take care of others when you need a little care taking of yourself is another heroic trait. She has made sure not to miss a step with her children. She has been there for them cheering them on in their own activities so they don't miss a step. She even attempted to go through her portal implant alone rather than bother anyone to accompany her. Luckily, she has a true friend who did not let that happen.

Geography has precluded me from being able to be there to give her the support I would like to. If I could, I would be enveloping her in a great big bear hug right now.

Amy, the one thing I remember about you when you were two years old is your propensity for screaming. You were at our house when my twins were newborns and every few minutes you would let out these blood curdling screams for no reason at all. At the time I wanted to strangle you. I'm glad I didn't, because somehow it seems your ability to scream like that has translated into the feistiness you have shown that is getting you through all of this.

Lest we forget that there is pain, discomfort and fear always lurking behind the laughter, we will keep you in our prayers and I salute you as my new hero and role model.