Claiming Our Stories

Our stories have a way of shaping our lives, giving us identity and creating our character.  

Our stories have their own plot, an obstacle and resolve. Claiming our stories helps us to claim a lesson, moral or insight into ourselves.

Stories from my adolescence years are the most embarrassing, but even those stories are worth remembering. For instance…

 Once upon a time I was sixteen with a grand plan. I would get a job, save my money, buy a car and leave home by the time I turned 18. 

Consequently, that is why I became a nurse’s aid in a nursing home.

My boss, Nurse Nancy, was young, energetic, happy, buoyant, and confident. Her brown eyes sparkled, her curly hair bounced and she smiled more than frowned. 

Nancy taught me everything I needed to know to be a better than average nurse’s aid. She showed me the efficient way to move a patient from their bed to the wheel chair and how to use a cheerful voice to convince any antagonistic man or woman to cooperate.  

 Then one day, everything I’d learned from Nancy was put to the test. She left for an emergency meeting. Watching her walk away I heard her say, “I know you can get Pansy up by yourself.” But, alone?

Pansy was a big woman of few words and not a happy camper. But Nancy’s words, “You can,” reverberated inside my head as I opened the door to Pansy’s room.  

It was dark in there, so I opened the curtains that were closed against the late afternoon sun, and greeted Pansy with, “It’s time to rise and shine.” Glancing over toward Pansy’s bed, I noticed that she was sound asleep. But, Nancy’s words, “You can,” urged me onward. My job; get Pansy up and dressed for dinner.

I chatted at Pansy while finding a flowery robe and a matching pair of slippers in her closet. I wheeled her wheelchair into place, remembering to lock its wheels just as Nancy taught me. Still, Pansy did not open her eyes. 

But in spite of my doubts Nancy’s words, “You can,” kept urging me forward. At Pansy’s bedside, I pulled her sheet down and brought her up to a sitting. Then I swung her legs so that they hung down the side of the bed. She didn’t even give me a protesting grunt, but she didn’t give me any help either.

Putting my arms under her underarms, just as Nancy had shown me, I heaved her weight to standing, then pivoted her body around to the wheelchair. Once her hips plopped safely into place, I sighed with relief. 

Her robe went on backwards, and her dentures I placed in her lap. Fastening the seat belt around her girth, I wheeled her out into the hallway. I’d done my job, alone. 

As Nancy walked toward me, I anticipated seeing a pleased look on her face. I’d done my job just as she’d taught me. But instead, Nancy’s eyes got big, and her mouth dropped open in disbelief. 

Placing her hands on the arms of the wheel chair, Nancy slowly backed us into the room. 

  “Pansy’s dead,” Nancy whispered. “She must have just died before we came on shift.”  Wanting to collapse under the weight of my stupidity, instead, with silent efficiency, Nancy and I put Pansy back to bed, shrouding her dead body with a fresh sheet. 

I succeeded in keeping my job, saving my money and buying an old Volkswagen. By the time I turned 18, I drove away from home.

It takes us time to claim our stories, especially the less than savory ones. We have to get past the emotions of shame and embarrassment before we can claim our stories. But when we do, then we can learn from them.  

Eventually I got over how I’d initially felt about getting a dead lady up for dinner; stupid. Getting past feeling stupid I can now say with confidence that it makes sense why I get a surge of energy whenever I encounter an obstacle and why I hear the words, “I can,” inside my head.

Why Bother? 

Why bother claiming our stories? Once we claim our stories, even the embarrassing ones, then we can learn something from them. Sharing those stories may even help encourage someone who thinks they are the only ones who’ve done something stupid. 

P. S.  I wrote the story of my journey to forgiveness for those who, like me, experienced a tragedy in life, but do not want their life to become a tragedy. You can find A Heart’s Journey To Forgiveness at Redemption Press and Amazon.