I have always been fascinated by that one tree in the middle of a field on a road trip. Somehow it has a story to tell, or so it seems. How did it arrive here? How has it endured the many seasons and harsh conditions? Is it lonely? Is it super confident because “damn, I survived?”
Clearly trees don’t think like us humans, but if they could talk, they’d have some powerful stories to tell. We all have stories, and we need to know and understand them, celebrating their lessons and impact on our lives.
A part of my mom’s recovery process has been a stint at a psychiatric hospital, where the goal was to modify her medications against the new anti-seizures meds to try to get her out of what seemed like a modified coma (or at least a state of not having her mind or many physical functions). I have to tell you, that at first it was beyond scary to be there. People walking, others laying or sitting in beds and chairs, yelling and babbling incoherently.
It’s tough on everyone involved and God bless the care team. My mom leaves there today to start rehabilitating her body. I have to tell you, that I’ve come to love these people who have taken care of her. Yesterday, Maria told me about her 46-year-old marriage and pieced together a story for me about how she is a working woman, a proud mom and how she’s scared. She, like so many, likely has dementia – or a version of Alzheimer’s. She has a story.
Many of these people didn’t seem to have family or friends ever come to visit… no one to hear their story. Even those who do, I wonder if we take the time to understand and listen to the stories.
I’m mindful as a health care leader in the senior space about how we are doing in creating pathways to ensure the dignity of our seniors and to hear their stories. As a now 50-year old, I know I haven’t listened well to the stories of the older generations. We need a culture shift in America to focus on the importance of this. Other countries do this really well, if we can stop and learn from them.
Stories are powerful.