For Granted
By Tim Shriver
If you’re like me and millions of Americans, you’re on the move for the holidays. I set off last weekend to meet 4 of my 5 children (Sam sadly has to work), their two spouses, my wife, my 4 grandchildren and more than a dozen cousins.
When I finally settled into my seat on the plane, (slightly sweaty and overwhelmed), I decided to check out the Christopher Reeve documentary. The story of Reeve’s rise to stardom as Superman and then his horseback riding accident, his near-death experience, and his complete paralysis is stunning. The whole film could’ve been titled “Everyone Has Dignity.” It was beyond moving.
But one moment caught my attention. As part of his recovery, Reeve wanted to direct a film and he succeeded in doing so. The Film was titled, “The Brooke Ellison Story,” a biopic about a young woman named Brooke Ellison who was injured in a car accident as a little girl that left her with quadriplegia. A few years after the accident, Brooke was admitted to Harvard (with her mother who accompanied her) and earned a degree in cognitive neuroscience, Magna Cum Laude.
Reeve wanted to make the film to show that a person with serious paralysis could still accomplish great things and one of those great things was Brooke Ellison’s speech at Harvard graduation. In the speech, she thanked her mother for accompanying her to college, she at 17 and her mom at 44. With her ventilator pumping air into her lungs and seated in her chair, she noted the wonder of all the diversity around her but also that “We’re all really the same. The basic need and desire to love and be loved exists in all of us… None of us would be here were it not for the efforts and caring of those who have helped us along the way…” As she neared the end of her beautiful remarks, she captured the lesson that caught me off guard. “My mother and I have learned so much from all of you. What we hope you can learn from us and from each other is to take no one in your life for granted.”
I paused the film after she spoke. I looked up and thought of all the people who’d helped me get to that plane—most of whom I’d taken for granted. The saleswoman at Target. The Uber driver who arrived to pick me up 10 minutes early. The flight attendants who wished everyone “Happy Holidays” and “Merry Christmas” too. The TSA workers. I pictured them and saw how beautiful they were. I felt a pang, worried that they probably thought I took them for granted.
A rush came over me to hold onto this gift from Brooke. I pictured my brilliant and tireless colleagues Tom and Tami and the whole team at the Dignity Index. I hope a day never goes by when they think I take them for granted. And I saw the team at my podcast, “Need A Lift?” and the whole Bigger Picture team—so full of ideas and curiosity and hope for helping us all heal. And I thought of all the folks who attend Dividers Anonymous meetings who share such beautiful and life-giving wisdom. I hope they all know I don’t take any of them for granted.
I looked up at the frozen screen of Brooke Ellison in her chair with her mother at her side giving her speech, and I closed my eyes. I saw dozens of Special Olympics athletes and colleagues and wanted to tell them all I don’t take them for granted. Then I saw my wife Linda, my kids, my grandchildren, and my in-laws. I saw them one at a time. In silence, I said to each of them, “I promise you I will never take your love for granted.” I saw my brothers and my sister. I said the same to each of them. I saw the wonderful people of St. Martin’s church and Holy Trinity too. They’re holy people—even the ones whose names I don’t know. They show up, they pray, they inspire m, and I promised to try not to take them for granted either.
I looked at Brooke one last time to thank her for her lesson. I wanted to thank Christopher Reeve too. I never expected to get such a huge dose of Christmas love and wisdom on a plane but thanks to them, that’s just what I got. What a gift.
Brooke Ellison died earlier this year from complications related to her quadriplegia. She was 45. My wish for each of you—whether you’re preparing to light the miracle of Hannukah menorahs or preparing to celebrate the birth of a small, helpless, divine infant, I hope every believer in dignity knows that we don’t take you for granted. I am beyond grateful for you. And my wish is that you will tell someone important to you that you don’t take them for granted either.
Happy season of miracles. You’re a miracle too—every one of you. Let’s all resolve to never take that for granted. -Tim
(Reprinted with Permission)
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