Back to Before Everything is Different

 

"I hope everything can get back to normal" is a common post by friends in social media now that metrics and statistics indicate that the pandemic is coming to an end in the United States. And what a human sentiment to experience but can we ever go back to before?

During last night's before bed meditation, after a stunning session with my chiropractor earlier in the day, I had muscle memory from when I was a beautiful ballerina before I contracted paralytic polio at the tender age of 5 and a half years old. The phrase, 'Back to before, everything is different" came to me along with the realization that I could never go back to my life before I contracted paralytic polio and endured years of trauma at the hands of family members. I lost my sense of innocence and not being able to have that sense of unbridled joy that children should get to experience, but gained spiritual wisdom far beyond my years. I developed a strength of character and discipline that held me in good stead navigating my young adult and adult life.

As Tony Robbins once said, "It's never too late to have a happy childhood."

Fast forward to today as Massachusetts and many states are no longer under a State of Emergency. As photos of graduations, weddings, events, road racing, reunions, gatherings, flinging masks in the air  at bars, as the mask mandate was lifted and a touting of returning to life as it was before, there is no more back to before.

We live in a world changed by a virus that swept through, and in many countries still sweeping through, wreaking havoc with every aspect of life. 

This afternoon, the Heath School 8th grade graduation took place in the "Little Field" across from our house. Our twins graduated in 2002. As much as we wanted to go back to before 9/11, everything was different. My daughter and I reflected on how their lives were changed that day. I had to stay in place as a social worker at  the VA and the school personnel had to support the children who heard the rumors about airplanes hitting the World Trade Center. 

The families, graduates and school personnel for the class of 2021, had to endure a year unlike any other. As families and graduates arrived for the celebration, we could feel how different this year is from any other year. There is usually a stage where the students sit and there are rows of seats for the families. This year, there was a circle with a stage in the middle where students received their diplomas. Students and families were dressed to the nines which is highly unusual for the 8th grade graduation at Heath.

Ruth Anne and I had a full on ugly cry hearing the music, seeing staff and students' procession and the cheers as students walked to receive their hard earned diplomas. 

We clapped as the Principal had staff, then families and graduates stand making remarks about resilience, strength and community. He noted how the students brought light and joy in the midst of very dark times. After the ceremony, we said hello to one of Ruth Anne's former teachers whose son graduated 8th grade and congratulated them both. 

We spoke with the Principal letting him know how moved we were. He said, "It was quite a year and on a day like today, it all seems like a blur."  

As much as we'd love to go back to before traumatic events occur, it's just not possible. As Lewis Carroll said, we are not the same people we were yesterday. The question then becomes, how do we emerge into the light having gone through darkness and turmoil and bring forward light and joy. 

Back to Before

Yearning to go back to before
when tragedy struck
rewind the tape
Ah if only it were that easy
life in rear view mirror
an illusion
of easy times
romanticized
idealized.

What about now?

Gratitude and appreciation
flow deeply in veins
once vain
priorities change.

Celebrate triumph
resilience and strength
golden nuggets
treasure found
Phoenix rising
after surrender
yielding to what was
right of way
rites of passage
to forge a path
faith the torch that lights the way
everything is different
infinite possibilities
on our new landscape of life.

From my heart to yours
In health and wellness
Mary

Be sure to listen to my conversation with Greg Chastain and Ed Siegel on their Voices of Hope podcast, The Cardinal Cafe. From Greg Chastain: The latest episode of The Cardinal Cafe is up! On this episode we meet Mary McManus. Mary is a motivational speaker, author, poet, 2009 Boston Marathon Finisher, polio and trauma survivor. She has a remarkable story of resilence, healing, Hope and possibilities. Once you hear her tell her story you will want to rush out to purchase her newest book of poems “Hope is a Garden” which she wrote during the recent pandemic. So please join us for this incredible story.

For more information about my journey from childhood polio and trauma to the finish line of the 2009 Boston Marathon and beyond, visit my website.  

Be sure to check out my website's News and Events page for upcoming and past interviews where I share my remarkable and inspirational journey as a survivor of paralytic polio and trauma.

My books to inspire and uplift you are available on Amazon.

Signs of Hope

On March 13, 2020 my daughter and I went into Star Market and were aghast at what we saw. From "Hope is a Garden: Poems and Essays From the 2020 Pandemic":

There was no way we could have ever been prepared for what we experienced at Star Market. We first went to Trader Joe's where we like to buy certain items. The shelves were bare but Ruth Anne noted, "There's the eggplant!" (Referencing the story I told her about the Blizzard of 1978, when the only thing we could buy to cook was eggplant.) We aborted the mission and headed to Star Market.

 

There were no carriages and when we asked one of the managers where we could get a cart, she said, "They are all in use. Just wait until you see what's happening in here!"

 

They made an announcement for all staff to attend to carriage control and we were assertive without being aggressive to secure our cart. There was plenty of produce except for white potatoes. People were wearing masks and gloves. The fish counter and meat shelves were well stocked but there was not a box of pasta or jar of sauce to be found. People were pushing and shoving and the panic was palpable. Ruth Anne and I stayed focused getting our essentials on what ordinarily would have been a regular grocery shopping outing. Part of Ruth Anne's healing and recovery from an autoimmune condition that caused brain inflammation is to be able to grocery shop. She has gone on a few independent shopping trips but I knew this was not going to be the day to work on those skills.

 

I was in awe of how we remained calm despite the empty shelves and the energy of the shoppers. We were able to maintain focus and when an item wasn't available we made substitutes or decided to keep it on the list for next week. While I went to get milk and orange juice, Ruth Anne secured our place in the long and winding check out lines.

 

It wasn't until Friday evening that the trauma of that trip hit us. Fortunately Tom gave us a loving ear about what we witnessed.

Last Friday, my eyes welled with tears and my heart overflowed with gratitude as we realized that the one way aisle markers at Star Market had been taken down. We were free to go up and down the aisles to get what we needed!

The CDC has said that wearing masks outdoors is optional especially if you are fully vaccinated. 

My news feed on Facebook is filled with postponed holiday gatherings with clever names like "Thankschreaster" for Thanksgiving, Christmas and Easter now that family members are fully vaccinated.

Two big signs of hope are on my calendar in the next two weeks. For the first time since February of 2020, I have a hair appointment! I wanted to wait until infection rates were on the decline and vaccination rates were on the rise. It seems surreal that I am going to go to a hair salon again. We had been going into Boston to get our hair done but the salon was in a crowded section of downtown and was not as rigorous with precautions as we would have liked. Fortunately, one of my friend's has been going to a salon in our town for years and has a stylist that she raves about. It will be a new experience in many ways and one that I embrace with eager anticipation.

From "Hope is a Garden":

On March 12th, I walked into my pregnant chiropractor’s office.

 

The airwaves and social media news feeds were beginning to fill with fear and panic. I had a sense in my gut that something was terribly wrong with the messages and the methods that surrounded COVID-19. 

 

“I don’t think they have any plan for this,” I told Dr. Lizzie.

 

“I’m not worried about getting the virus,” Dr. Lizzie said. “I’m worried about what’s going to happen to my business.”

 

Always the commensurate professional, Dr. Lizzie gave me an outstanding treatment of chiropractic care. We hugged at the end of the treatment.

 

“As long as things are open, I will be here,” she said.

 

The first email she sent outlined the precautions she would take while keeping her practice open. Two days later she said that she would have to follow the State and City guidelines and temporarily close her practice. As numbers of cases spiked, she made the decision to close her practice until January 2021 giving herself an extended maternity leave.

 

One week from Thursday, the day after I receive my 2nd Pfizer vaccine, I will be reunited with my chiropractor.  Fourteen months after we said "I'll see you next week," I will finally get back on her table for regular adjustments. I've harnessed my meditation practice and exquisite self-care of rolling, stretching and strength training to keep everything moving as best I could during this hiatus in chiropractic care. I am proud of what I have been able to do without care, but eagerly anticipate the relief of experiencing Dr. Lizzie's skill and healing touch.

The book title, "Hope is a Garden: Poems and Essays From the 2020 Pandemic" was inspired when we planted our first flower garden last October. This was a patch of barren ground that held hope for what would bloom in Spring, 2021.

Hope Is A Garden  

 

Dirt stained knees

spade turning over soil

feelings flutter

tenderly tilling the earth

lovingly placing bulbs

embodiment of expectations and hope.

 

Hope is a garden

holding seeds in hand

awe-some

everything they need to know

ready to burst forth.

 

Patience and perseverance

faith abides

kneeling

knowing no prayers needed

all unfurls in Divine Timing.

 

In darkness hope stirs

light pierces through

as new life breaks ground

yet invisible to the eye

seeds of infinite possibilities

hope the harvest of imagination.  

 

“Where flowers bloom, so does hope.” ~Lady Bird Johnson

 

Birds singing, tulips in full bloom on the Boston Public Gardens, people hugging, events being scheduled and joy and hope fill the air. Signs of hope are everywhere as we begin to move beyond the pain of the pandemic. 

From my heart to yours

In health and wellness 

Mary

For more information about my journey from childhood polio and trauma to the finish line of the 2009 Boston Marathon and beyond, visit my website.

 

"Hope is a Garden:Poems and Essays From the 2020 Pandemic" along with all of my books to inspire and uplift you is available on Amazon.