My New Hero

In my life, there are a number of people who I would call my heroes – women and men who I admire, look up to, and attempt to model my own life and behaviors after. After last week, I have a new hero – my beautiful, ten year old niece Emily.

Since the day I held my newborn baby niece in my senior prom dress, I have been in love with her. I once heard her Grandma Stick describe Emily as pure joy, and that is so true. Just the fact that she named her grandparents after their (both now deceased) dogs should give you an idea of fun and creativity that bubbles out of this girl. Her favorite color has always been yellow – a reflection of her sunny and cheerful disposition.

This past week, Emily had corrective surgery on her chest. My sister and brother-in-law have known that their little girl would have this procedure since she was an infant, but it didn’t make the process any easier. The surgery went beautifully, but she had to spend six days in the hospital attempting to manage a great deal of pain.

I can only imagine the discomfort she was in, but she went after her recovery with determination and grace and never lost the pure sweetness that she has always exuded. As we waited for the surgical staff to roll her off, Emily insisted that any member of the medical staff who visited her sign her pillowcase. Immediately after surgery as the nurse attached a monitor to her finger, Emily, groggy from all the pain and medication, looked at the monitor’s blinking red light, extended her finger toward her dad, and in her best alien voice said, “E.T., phone home!” When athletes and coaches from the Iowa State football team visited her in her hospital room, she had them sign an extra poster for her Uncle Ben because she knew how much he loved football memorabilia. When I stayed with her one afternoon, she determinedly undertook her spirometer exercises and her 12:30 walk around the hall, and with each forced stream of air and ginger step, my heart swelled with pride. I can only hope that I could handle such pain with so much courage.

I will always treasure the image of her eating her pizza, mashed potatoes, and vanilla milk shake the last time I visited her hospital room. Her lovely strawberry blonde hair was pulled into pigtails and for the first time in nearly a week she wore her own clothes - monkey pajamas which were the exact turquoise blue of her eyes. She was receiving an antibiotic through her IV, and when the alarm started to sound, calling out to her nurse, Heather, to remove the cartridge, she sang along, “Heath-er, Heath-er, All-done, All-done” and giggled the way she always does when she knows she is funny. I remembered a moment a few years back when Emily spent the night with me. As I watched her sleep in the double bed we shared, I was struck breathless and had a suddenly realization of the love a parent has for her child. All I could think was, “How could you love anything more?” As I watched Emily sway in her chair to the insistent beep of that machine, pizza in hand, I realized this is how you could love something more – when this little life amazes you with each passing day with all she is capable of, when she transforms into this beautiful and courageous young woman before your eyes.