April 13, 2008
Dear Jai and Randy,
I was one of the lucky ones to see Randy's "Last Lecture" video just days after it was posted, and I have been following your remarkable journey since. I thank you for sharing so much of your adventure with the world.
My husband died in a plane crash when our daughter was five. We had no financial safety net. In fact, I lost the house and five businesses. Nevertheless, I discovered that the most important safety net is the human spirit, and my daughter and I danced through our rock-strewn path to find our way, turning stumbling blocks into stepping-stones. She is now 30, she put herself through med school, survived the trauma of last year at Virginia Tech, and will be a doctor in a year.
I woke up this morning with a pressing desire to share a couple of thoughts with you, learned from my own journey. I have read your website, I know from my personal experience that you have plenty on your plates besides reading this, I don't expect nor want you to spend precious time crafting a response. Still, I felt compelled to share these thoughts.
I have heard Randy say on a couple of interviews that he believes that your daughter may be too young to remember much of her dad. Granted, my five-year old was much older when her dad died, but I want to share with you that not all the memories are the result of remembering actual events. Much more of the memories are from the re-telling of the stories, which become the family mythology. I made a little book of photos of my daughter and her dad, and often storytime was a rich recounting of fun times with her dad: the day they bundled up to play in the once-in-a-lifetime snowfall in Louisiana, the two of them on his motorbike, riding ponies, or singing at the organ together. She even knows every detail about her amazing birth—when I went into labor, and the trip to the hospital, and the magic of her delivery—because of the photos and the stories that I have told her through the years. She certainly wouldn't have remembered that, otherwise!
And we celebrate her dad's birthday every year - with a cake and a party when she was younger, and a lunch date when she got older. But always with the stories.
So your daughter's memories will not diminish, but grow, as time goes on, inspired by the photos and the stories of other family members. I believe that this is how the fabric of a rich family heritage is woven, whatever the length of the lifetimes of its members.
The one thing I would have liked to have, and which brings me to the reason I am writing, is a recording of my husband reading aloud one of my daughter's favorite books. I would have liked to sit with her on my lap at story time, turning the pages, as we both listened to her father speak the words. Even for grandkids, it would be lovely to have the voice of the grandfather they never knew, as part of their experience. And for the choice of a book, I would have picked something like "The Velveteen Rabbit." And if I could have chosen more, they would have included another favorite, "Goodnight, Moon," and all seven of C.S. Lewis' "Chronicles of Narnia," a timeless read for any age.
I wouldn't have thought of this idea except that as my daughter got older, and I hired a babysitter when I had classes or meetings in the evenings, she wouldn't go to sleep until I came home to read her a story. So, as a problem-solving measure, I recorded her favorite stories. Then the babysitter played the recording and turned the pages of the book, as my daughter drifted off to sleep, hearing my voice. (As a busy single mom, in order to save time, I made the recordings as I was actually reading the stories to her. The unexpected bonus was that her comments and our interactions are also on the tape.)
On a similar note, when her grandmother died, I made my daughter a simple quilt from mom's clothing. It was healing for me to make it and healing for my daughter to have it. (They don't call quilts "comforters" for nothing!)
You two are shining examples of how we are not our circumstances and that we always have the choice of the attitude that we hold in any situation, perfectly illuminating my motto, which is a quote from Martha Washington:
"I've learned from experience that the greater part of our happiness or misery depends on our dispositions, and not on our circumstances."
Thanks for the legacy that you have given to your children and to the world—the importance of focusing on the fun in every moment. I believe your remarkable examples of how you both choose to face the "hand you have been dealt," is serving to raise the consciousness of society, away from the perception of victimhood, and toward self-empowerment and joy. And the richness of that legacy cannot but have an extraordinary and beneficial effect on your children.
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