Sylvia's Journal

Last night in our OBTS board-meeting-by-phone we agreed that the annual conference organizers need to have a double, or a shadow or at least someone who is sufficiently informed to take over in the God-forbid-event that something happens. I did not say anything because there was general agreement with the proposal but I did think of my own experience this summer in which such a God-forbid-event happened to us. And in the immediate aftermath I have learned a thing or two about being indispensable. It was humbling, annoying, disappointing and deeply satisfying all at the same time.

The week after we went down I was on the schedule to teach full days for a week in one of Boston University’s Summer Institute courses. I had no double or shadow. Within days colleagues were lined up to replace me that week. They did a great job and the course turned out to be just as life changing for some of the participants as I had intended. And I knew that the world would be just fine without me. That was the humbling and annoying part. I also had to be replaced for an assignment in Zanzibar and Tanzania that I had been looking forward to, in the middle of August. That was disappointing. The fact that the assignment went well without me was, again, both humbling and annoying.

More recently I have begun to get back in touch with the various people I am or have been coaching around the world to conduct leadership training in Nepal, Cambodia, Azerbaijan, Myanmar, Swaziland, Kenya and Guyana. They are all doing fine without me. Although that was also humbling, the more dominant feeling was that of great pride and satisfaction; after all, that is what I am trying to do: hand off the baton and hope it doesn’t get dropped. It did not.

But when it comes to the home front I know I am indispensable just as much as I know Axel, Sita and Tessa are indispensable to me. There are many moments that I watch Axel, especially early in the morning like now when he is still asleep. I feel a great surge of tenderness towards him and gratefulness that he is still here. I am acutely aware how utterly and totally he is part of my life and how I nearly lost him. I suspect that these thoughts and feelings were also our daughters’ in those early weeks after the crash.

Doubles and shadows won’t do at home. There is no substitution. But these tender feelings are good to have, to hoard and store in a safe place. As we drift back into normal life again, they make for a great insurance policy against the inevitable crankiness and irritability that comes from seeing the imperfections in the people I am with all the time, who also happen to be those I love most. The saying goes that you have to lose something to cherish it. Nearly lose someone is also true.

Annette continued her cleaning and repair frenzy. Those who remember the nurse’s station and the general rehab atmosphere of our house this summer may not recognize the transformation. She also drove Axel to Peabody and used the waiting time to raid the Lind chocolate store at the North Shore Mall. And while Annette was busy I was able to put in a good day’s work in between exercises and physical therapy. Axel went to a town meeting in the evening. These usually end at a local bar. Of course his was a pretend beer, manly or not.