Encouragement

When someone showers me with meaningful words, it is a gift beyond the greatest material gift in the world, because I can tuck these words in a pocket in my mind and pull them out anytime I need direction, reinforcement or strength. Sometimes they come in the form of a song lyric or poem, and sometimes they arrive as a single dynamic sentiment that will live inside me, and fortify me forever. It’s amazing—the difference a few words can make.

I’ll be forever grateful to Sally Reed who reached out to me when Hugh was nearing the end of his rope after many months of rehabilitation. Here’s an excerpt from Learning by Accident:

When I email the Lance Armstrong Foundation, an organization devoted to cancer victims and their families, I reach a woman named Sally, a cancer survivor herself. We never meet, and yet we email back and forth and she reaches out to me in a profound way. I ask her in desperation, “How can I help my husband? I feel so useless. What can I do to make a difference?”

She writes back: “Remind him that you love him. Remind him of his past. Remind him that you love him. Remind him of your history with each other. Remind him of his daughters’ birthdays, your birthday, anniversary, and remind him that you love him. Talk to him, talk to him, talk to him, and remind him.”

This is some of the simplest but most useful advice I have ever received. Thank you, Sally.

True Friendship is Timeless

I traveled 21 years back in time this past weekend to a place I lived before I lived in Richmond, to the Green Mountains of Vermont, and they are now just as pristine and as unchanged as they have been for hundreds of years. Vermont is vastly unique in its timelessness. While there are pockets of “civilization” (neighborhoods, small cities, and busy streets), you can still look into the distance from many vantage points—as far as the eye can see—and spy only a dot or two of some old farmhouse peeking out between the overgrowth of foliage everywhere. I stayed with my friend, Terry, at her new home in Georgia, Vermont. Old friends and coworkers showed up for a fun book party at her house on Saturday night. Everyone was excited and friendly; none of the usual chiding about not staying in touch enough. While staring into familiar faces from over twenty years ago, it almost felt as if no time had passed. Sincere friendship is timeless, like the rolling landscape of the mountains. Once securely settled in the heart, it is always there to sustain us.

Unexpected Gifts Bearing Secrets

While Hugh and I sat reading in our small condo in the outer banks one afternoon, we heard a knock at the door. Outside, stood an acquaintance we had met only weeks before, bearing a lovely gift and card. She asked to speak to me.

She told me she had heard about my book when I handed a few bookmarks out after Hurricane Irene and she bought my book immediately. "I read the entire book very quickly, from his perspective," she said, pointing to Hugh. "Thank-you for writing this book so others understand that people with brain injury may look perfectly fine but still be struggling with many issues." Her eyes filled up.

Shifting nervously from leg to leg, she poured out her own story, saying that Learning by Accident filled in all the blanks of her life for her. "Here, sit down," I said. The three of us talked for nearly two hours. This woman's brain injury occurred forty years ago. Back then, there was little done except to watch a person in a coma and send her home when she woke up. No rehab. No therapy. No grieving. Get on with life. She did just that, and has lived a very happy and fulfilling life, but no one told her about the blank period she suffered in between crashing and remembering, and for her, it was a very long blank period. "No one talked about such things back then," she said. "I cried in my pillow, and I moved on. Your book means everything to me."

After she left, Hugh and I looked at the gift she gave us, a lovely wreath for our condo. But the real gift she gave us was her story. The book unwrapped it, she presented it, and we received it, allowing her to come full circle.

Slippery Memories

At age 55, I'm starting to worry when I forget my keys, or when I forget why I came upstairs. But since I've learned that worrying doesn't solve anything, I've been investigating ways to strengthen my own neural connections and make my brain sharper. What I've discovered is this: that doing more of the things I love won't really help (in my case, reading and researching) because those neural connections are already strongly embedded in the pavement of my memory highway. I need to learn new material and reinforce it. I need Math. I need to learn a new language, or play Sudoko. The trouble is, I don't enjoy these activities at all. This left me with a dilemma, until I stumbled on the website, Lumosity.com.

Lumosity is a brain training system that measures your brain power, brain processing speed, and reaction time all while you play games on the computer. The more you play, the stronger your neural connections become, and you can see your own progress. It hooked me right away. Of course, after my free trial, I had to pay for this, but I feel the price is reasonable, and the benefit it provides is apparent in my daily life. This is not a commercial or endorsement, but a suggestion to anyone who feels their mental stamina slipping as they age: take action. The earlier the better. Work your brain in a way you have not worked it before, and add more mentally sharp years to your life.