I have been thinking a lot about the nature of resilience lately during this unseasonably wet May in Saskatchewan. Many parts of the province have received more rain than we normally do in a year. The seeding is nowhere near half-done; and the possibility of frost-free time to mature a crop lessens daily with each shower. Local radio and coffee-shop talk focuses on the weather, and the resilience that it takes to be hopeful patient farmers under these conditions.
As we consider resilience, we are reminded of the prairie crocus that blooms so early each spring. Often covered in snow and buffeted by wind, these harbingers of spring bloom again to remind us that the seasons eventually do roll around.
A colleague of mine writes: "Resilience is the ability to work with adversity in such a way that one comes through it unharmed or even better for the experience. Resilience means facing life's difficulties with courage and patience -- refusing to give up. It is the quality of character that allows a person or organization to rebound from misfortune, hardships and trauma."
This description describes Isabel as well as the crocus and prairie farmer (of which Isabel is definitely one!). During the last weeks, Mum has recovered from a couple of infections, and the treatment for them threw her digestive system out of whack. She has returned to her usual vibrant healthy self. In addition she has endured a sudden move across the hall. After over two years in a familiar room with her companion of early morning sun, she moved with a brief 30 minutes notice. (The move is part of the facility's policy on reducing contagious infection among residents.) Regardless of the good reason for the move, some of the familiarity of home and how one's TV, radio, and health equipment work in a certain room orientation were lost within one short hour.
Whereas many residents of longterm care have to deal with such upheaval and often the loss of familiar staff if they move units or facilities, Isabel moved just "across the hall" and is still near the sunny lounge and her terrace garden. However, we are still reminded of her incredible resilience of the last three years. Walking out of her home in Abernethy never to return again, loss of physical ability and many beloved aspects of family and community life, coming to terms with such a rare and unexpected health condition to name just a few.
Yet, she continues to be such a trooper. "You can't look back, you can only go forward", she reminds us, and onward she goes enjoying each day, exerting her best self at each therapy appointment, and delighting in the visitors and letters that come through the door. And although she has said good-bye to her beloved morning sun, she now has a west view and can see the weather rolling in. Her daily emails to her daughters start with a description of the weather.
The nature of resilience has a lot to do with emotional and mental survival or the psychological make-up that provides a phenomenal will to live in order to continue to eek out all there is of life and its goodness. Resilience is about a dogged determination to persevere and survive. You've got it, Mum!
With gratitude and awe, we feel this resilience every time we visit you or hear from you by email.
And now, onward to June and all its possibilities!
(With thanks to Linda Anderson for her words on resilience quoted above)
