Persevering with Creativity
With the passing of Ruth Bader Ginsberg, I am reminded of people in my own life who are long since gone, people who lived their lives with dignity and grit and inspire me to this day. Many years ago I had a friend in his 80's named Martin Holmes who showed me first-hand what real perseverance looks like and how attitude shapes our experience.
Martin only completed the 6th grade and worked as a switch operator for the New York City Subway System for almost 50 years. He lived in a tiny, one-room apartment in the basement of a house near where I lived. I never knew Martin when he had legs. Sometime in his early 70's he contracted gangrene in both feet and had to have both legs amputated just above the knees.
For most of his adult life, he had lived with his beloved wife, Florence, upstairs in the apartment they rented in a two-family house. His wife had passed after he lost his first leg, so the doctors said he would have to go to a nursing home after losing the second leg since he couldn't care for himself and had no living relatives who could care for him. Martin respectfully disagreed, and through sheer determination and creativity, found a way to survive on his own.
He found a way to get from his bed to his wheelchair using a board. He took care of his hygiene needs by sponge bathing at the sink since there was no shower or bathtub in his tiny room -- just a toilet behind a curtain. He had a small refrigerator and small stove top so he could feed himself. The doctors and nurses couldn't believe how he had used his ingenuity to find a way to maintain his independence.
That is only half the story. He was truly the most joyful, positive person I have ever known. He never watched television and instead spent his long days reading or talking to friends on the phone or writing letters. He was quick-witted, self-taught, and could converse about almost anything. His command of the English language was music to one's ears. He sang opera as though he had been classically trained and sang regularly at his church. He kept a journal every day of his life for 50 years, including the days he had his legs amputated.
He had no way of leaving his tiny room except when friends took him out. Always impeccably dressed and groomed, he knew how to enjoy and prolong a dinner better than anyone I knew. Dinner always began with cocktails followed by wine and a many course meal. Despite the fact he lived almost solely on social security and a very small pension, he absolutely refused to let me pay. Every visit and/or dinner out -- even a phone call -- was always followed by a beautifully hand written note of thanks.
I forgot to mention that his tiny room was literally wallpapered with pictures of friends -- babies, couples, families, single women -- you name it. On his birthday every year, he received over one hundred cards in the mail.
There was nothing old about Martin except his body. His focus was always on the other person. There was nothing goody two-shoes about him either, which often made for very interesting conversation. He had just the right amount of spice and mischief about him. What I found most amazing, however, was that despite his many challenges and humble lifestyle, he lived a very rich life and I never once heard him complain, not even when he was in the hospital dying of leukemia.
So I have an extraordinary role model for perseverance in Martin. I am careful, however, not to compare myself to him, even though I think of him often and am inspired by him. What forces in his life enabled him to hang on to every ounce of joy in life despite numerous challenges, I do not know. I do know that the more we can relax, the more we open ourselves to the simple joys of life in the present moment, the more creative we are able to be in meeting the challenges life puts before us.