Call it a lucky charm, call it what you will. On my way over to Operation Magpie land, I sat in row 19, both legs of the way. During my flights, I was greeted by intriguing stories from strangers who became my ingenues. There was Ray, who ordered me a bottle of wine and toasted to my new adventure. There was the woman Carolina who was on her way back home to the Netherlands after having spent the last 5 weeks tending to her sisters 35 year old husband who had just suffered 2 strokes in 2 weeks. Or take Christophe, the enthusiastic musician who had just embarked on his first plane ride in his 24 years so he could attempt to save his brother, a 22 year old vet who had just returned from his second stint in Afghanistan only several months prior, and was now attempting to end his life. While he shared his iPod with me and provided me with the names of various bands that I would add to my repertoire, he recounted his brothers story, whilst Caroline did the same. The more I sat back and listened to my fellow occupiers of row 19, the underlying theme that kept coming up was that life is short. It's too short to sit back and watch it go by. One day you can haplessly be running through life without a care in the world, and the next day you can find yourself having to be fed by someone else when you have only been given the chance to lead 35 years on this planet. Or you can find yourself barely being old enough to order a cocktail, yet still posses the aftermath of having risked your life, soul, and mental wellbeing for a war. Both stories seem incomprehensible to me. As horrid as both stories are, they were both good for me to hear. Being reminded that life can change in an instant is something that is so easily forgotten. Even though I have had my own experience that I can bring to the table, sometimes I tend to forget it, whether it is by choice or by mental design.
I was feeling rather frustrated, angry, and defeated a week and a half ago when I found out that the men on the hill were making COBRA more expensive, yet again. For the first time since I had gotten sick, I started to feel as though I felt a bit defeated, something that I had sworn to myself that I would never do. Operation Magpie had partly been planned with the intent of allowing myself to get away from the past two years and some of the bit and bobs that came along with it. I was sure that I could disappear and lead a life that did not consist of blood work, scans, medical bills, insurance issues, etc. Call me ignorant but I assumed that if I disconnected my phone and moved across the pond to an obscure village that I could leave it behind and start a new chapter. Fortunately, after I threw myself a successful pitty party, I woke up and changed my world view after thinking of my row 19 friends and after hearing the local stories and those of the new people I have met.
Last Thursday night while partaking in apres ski with the "CC Clan," (Courchevel Cascades), I came across a memorial placard that had the picture of Ali on the cover, a renowned Courch local who died last summer at the age of 32 of a brain tumor. Apparently, he was a hero and was loved by all who had been given the chance to meet him. The bar also sells t-shirts that say, "Je suis un skier," of which the proceeds go to the "Huck Cancer Foundation" which was started by an ESF instructor, a local lymphoma survivor. Hearing the unfathomably positive outlook that is resonating from Ruth, even after her two intensive boughts of lymphoma has also made me think and has placed everything back into perspective.
The most eye opening experience came when I met Steve, one of my 60+ year old guests at the chalet. Steve is relegated to a wheelchair and has been for 20+ years. Although I don't know what type of accident caused him to end up this way, I have left it up to my imagination to create a vivid story. Steve cannot live an independent life as he is completely dependant on others to care and help him out when needed. Steve bravely came on his holiday alone. I do not know much about him but that which I know is pretty astounding and impressive. He has told me that he used to be an avid mountaineer and climber. He loves sports and used to compete often. Unfortunately, he is not able to do most of the things he used to do so freely. He has, however taken up mono skiing and is absolutely astounding at it. I had the chance to ski with him today. As he is likely to tip over and needs the assistence of others to set him upright, he is unable to ski alone. He also needs help getting off and on lifts. Although Steve deals with issues that most of us can not even fathom dealing with, he still maintains one of the most positive outlooks out of anyone I have ever met. As cliched as it sounds, he is an inspiration.
Steve, Ruth, as well as the stories of all of the others I have had the chance to meet and hear about have put everything into perspective for me again. For a second I started feeling sorry for myself. I had spent so much time trying to be 'normal' and trying to forget about the past that for a bit I forgot the positive effects of it all and how lucky I am. I would never have taken the chance to quit my job and do something I have always wanted to do. I would have continued to play it safe like I used to. I had to stop and remind myself that I am still here and I am still rocking it. I can walk. I dont need to rely on others in order for me to lead my life the way I want to. I can walk up the stairs without getting tired. I can walk up the hill without making other people carry my skis. I can work in the morning, ski in the afternoon, and still have energy to work at night. I live in the most beautiful place in the world. I am doing what I have always wanted to do. I am living the life that most people can only dream about. I can spend the entire day skiing my heart out on the hills. I am living the dream life.
Thanks to all of you who let me bitch and cry to you last week when I felt defeated. Thanks for always being there, I couldn't and wouldn't be here if it weren't for you all. I love you and miss you all!
"Chaque joueur doit accepter les cartes que la vie lui distribue. Mais une fois qu'il les a en main, lui seul peut décider comment jouer ses cartes pour gagner la partie."
