The more I’ve practiced being courageous in sharing my
story, the easier it gets. Striking up conversations with strangers in social
situations (or on buses/airplanes) and letting it happen organically has been a
great way to practice. If it goes badly, ah well, I don’t have to talk to her
again. If it goes well, great! I’ve made a new friend. Today I was reminded of
one such conversation with Sarah, a woman I met on my way home from California
a few years ago. I’m so glad I decided to be brave that day. Maybe some day
I’ll be lucky enough to see her again…
“Alright, alright, alright! Keep moving, you five! Shuffle
along here.”
I turned my head and peeked over the seat in front of me in curiosity,
trying to see which brash air stewardess was conducting traffic this way. To my
total delight this was no air stewardess but a hustley bustley mama of five who
looked around my age. Behind her, five little heads of varying heights donning yarmulkes
or braids and uber-modest dresses that matched their mama’s bobbed obediently
behind her. A tall muscular man with dark features with full lips also wearing
a yarmulke was bringing up the rear. I had just come from a week-long adventure
in L.A. with Kyle as he had been testing at the Gracie Jiu Jitsu headquarters
in Torrance to become an instructor. I had been around some seriously tough
individuals the last few days and this guy seemed like he would have fit right
in. I don’t think he was mute, but I quickly noted that in this family dynamic,
it was the wife that did most of the talking.
“You! Sit beside your father! You! You’re a chucker! Sit
here by the aisle. The rest of you! These seats are yours. Sort yourselves out!
Ay yay yay… I need some cwaffie. Is anyone serving cwaffie? Wait! I have some
here.” … She was from New York!! I
put down my book and prepared myself to do some eyes-closed eavesdropping for
the entirety of the flight. This was going to be awesome.
She finished directing her clan and paused beside my row. “Oh…
YES!” I thought to myself with building excitement in my heart as it became
clear who was going to occupy the empty seat beside me, “This day just keeps
getting better!”
“Whew!” She plunked herself down in the chair beside me. “Ay
yay yay. Yes! You! I told you to sit there! Yes! You have to! Play nicely with
your brother!” She closed her eyes and exhaled deeply, turning her face to the
ceiling, resting only moments before turning around in her seat to face her
kids again. “Ok, you know what we need here? We need to sing a song! Let’s go!”
She began stomping both feet simultaneously, clapping loudly and singing a
rousing version of some celebratory song in Hebrew, increasing her volume in an
attempt to distract them from their squabbles… or maybe to encourage her crew
to join in? “Nope.” I decided, “This is definitely to make up for their lack of
enthusiasm. This woman is my hero.” Ignoring the stares of the other
passengers, she carried on until all her kids joined in; even the little one
with the soother was clapping on her Father’s lap. The father remained silent
and expressionless. The song ended with raised hands and a cheer. The kids went
back to their books and gaming devices, and the Mama swinging her legs out of
the aisle and settling into her seat suddenly seemed to notice me.
“Hi, I’m Stephanie.” I offered, “I have a couple kids too
but they are with my parents at the moment. This seems like quite the family
adventure for you!”
She introduced herself. Her name was Sarah. She and her
husband Malachi were on their way to Israel with their five children to
celebrate the Bar Mitzvah of their oldest son. The original plan had been for
Sarah and Malachi to just bring their son for a short three-day visit to Israel
but when Sarah’s sister had caught wind of this, she was disgusted with the
lack of ceremony surrounding such an important event and had purchased airline
tickets for the while family to spend a week in Israel together. This was the
first time in 13 years this family had been able to travel without a stroller.
They were flying from California to Toronto and had a connecting flight that
would bring them to Israel. “It’s not a big deal” she assured me, “it’s going
to be fine.” My respect for this Powerhouse was growing.
She noted my not-from-here accent and asked me what brought
me to California. I told her about Kyle’s Jiu Jitsu training and how much we
enjoyed the sunshine and the novelty of the palm trees on front lawns still
decorated with Christmas ornaments. I shared with her that orange trees hanging
heavily with fruit seemed as common as maple trees for us, and how one of my
favourite things this week had been to pick fresh limes from the tree in the
back-yard of our AirBNB every morning to slice into my glass of water. She
chuckled at my amazement and asked if I had had the chance to explore LA a bit.
“Not really” I admitted, “Kyle’s schedule was more full than
we were anticipating, BUT I did get to spend a number of hours exploring Long
Beach on my own!” She told me she worked in Long Beach and asked what surprised
me most about the city. I told her about people I saw at the harbour front
bundled in winter hats and jackets, and wearing shorts, (it was 18 degrees Celsius
and sunny), people riding Segways instead of walking on the sidewalks, and the
shop owner I met on the harbour who bitterly complained about the “Terrible
weather we’re having”. Sarah shook her head and scoffed, “Yes. We’re from New
York originally. This really is LA LA land…” We both had a little laugh about
that (and I understood the title of the recently released movie for the first
time), before I added,
“I did get a
little turned around at one point and was surprised at the number of homeless
people there seem to be.”
“…Yes. That is definitely a problem here.”
Sarah, it turns out, works within the Social Service system.
She regularly interacts with individuals who live on the streets or in
sub-optimal conditions. She told me often something that she finds incredibly
frustrating is that if people would just take the medication they were
prescribed, they would not be struggling so much.
I took the opportunity to share with this new friend, the
short version of my journey with depression and anxiety and how much the
medication I’ve been taking has helped me to function relatively symptom-free,
and how thankful I am that it is available to me and although I believe in a
God who loves me and hears me and is able to heal me, I’ve had to get to a
point where I accept that for now, He’s choosing to heal me through the
medication. Maybe someday He’ll see fit to remove my need for it, but for now,
I don’t have to deal with the symptoms and that needs to be enough for me.
She nodded thoughtfully and then began to share a little
about her faith and her prayer life and how it played a role in her work.
In a weird way, moments like this are the best gift that
living with depression and anxiety have given me. Practicing being brave in
vulnerability with others has opened up doors to conversations (sometimes with
complete strangers) about deeper things of the heart that may not have happened
otherwise. I walk away from these
conversations feeling humbled by how I’ve been trusted with a glimpse of
someone else’s heart or scars, and with a feeling of “See? That wasn’t so
scary. You’re not the only one who deals with this stuff.”
We chatted for a while about prayer, our families and
Sarah’s work. Eventually we got onto a story about a morning she was pulling
into a parking lot of an apartment complex when she noticed a man, face down on
the side of the road. She stopped the car and dialed 911. She explained the
situation and was asked, “Well, is he breathing?” “Are you asking me to go
check? No way am I going to do that!” Eventually an ambulance came, checked the
guy out and it turned out he was just drunk and hadn’t taken his medication for
a while. He was moved somewhere safe and Sarah got on with her day. “You know,
when these people aren’t on their meds, they are just Crazy!" She paused, glancing at me nervously, "...No offense.”
Oh man. This was too much. I erupted in giggles, startling
my new friend, whose surprise quickly dissolved into laughter of her own.
This woman was bringing their five children on a
multi-flight trip to Israel to celebrate a Bar Mitzvah. She had announced to
the entire plane that one of her kids was prone to barfing. Her huge but
possibly mute husband seemed completely disengaged, so when the kids are all
squirmy and squabbling, instead of asking her husband to help, her solution was
to sing a song as loud as possible all the while clapping and stomping hoping
the kids will join in. She had asked no one in particular in a loud voice a
number of times about whether or not there was “Cwaffie” available, all the
while holding one. And finally because I tell her that I’ve been on some
medication for anxiety and depression for the last while, I’m the one who is
crazy.
What a wonderful lady! Maybe some day I’ll
be lucky enough to run into her again. No offense taken Sarah; none at
all.
