The metaphor of our situation as a marathon remains with me.

“Without having been able to prepare for this marathon,
what strategies would you use to be in the race,
survive the race, and finish?”

______________________________________________

Once I started to ask others for their opinion on how they would approach this marathon race of uncertainty and life interruption, I knew I needed to include a dear friend, client and colleague on the list of people with whom I wanted to have the conversation.

Charlotte Rerko, was top of my list for many reasons. She is a wise soul whose counsel is always measured. Similar in age, Charlotte and I have lived the largest portion of our lives and have arrived at a place where we know who we are, and know how to use our voice and gifts. We each have a leadership style that is very inclusive, collaborative, and striving for the best possible outcomes. It has been a joy to be in Charlotte’s life through several career transitions and leadership positions.

I was very interested in hearing what Charlotte had to say in reaction to my proposed metaphor, not only because of who she is, but also because she has been running her own race of life and death for the past twelve months. One year ago in May this strong, active, non-profit executive returned from a conference having difficulty breathing. The symptoms were more than the stubborn cold that had shadowed her all winter. Wisely, as a mastered trained nurse, she went to the doctor only to find out that she had leukemia. I will fail to represent the exact diagnosis but it was bad.

Charlotte was hospitalized immediately and started chemotherapy to kill the cells. For weeks she battled the effects of the leukemia fevers and the chemo with grace, grit, and always a kind word for her care givers. Her family and friends gathered. It was a serious time. I watched my friend thoughtfully work with her partner to plan each step, work with her staff and Board President to effectively settle the organization into interim leadership, reassure family, and do battle with the disease. The light behind her eyes dimmed. And we all held our breath.

In this year, Charlotte has had multiple rounds of chemo, achieved remission, found a cell match with her brother, receive a transplant of cells in September and with her suppressed immune system was social distanced for 100 days so has not to risk getting anything. She was monitored daily to see if her cells would accept or reject the new cells and her life was lived one day at a time.

It didn’t surprise me when I shared my metaphor with her that she promptly said:

My answer will be different from the other people you have asked as I have been running the race already. And what I have learned am using today.

 

“I didn’t know then but I know now that I was in training.

 

“The path is not linear.

 

“I am alive with a stronger focus than ever. I rise each day grateful and celebrate life exuberantly.

 

“I feel that the time we have together is a gift. I have a life partner, my children close, and quality time with them all. I know the importance of relationship and staying in touch.”

And I would observe that despite being very vulnerable and still in recovery, Charlotte is highly engaged, focused, innovating, inspiring, guiding, and never down for the count. She is realistic and conservative but living fully. She appreciates every moment and interaction.

She concluded by saying, “The world is changing and we are changing.” And the consequences are serious. Yet she does not engage in any of the politics of sidedness and blame. She instead finds a way to contribute and move things forward.

She finished with a smile saying something I have said many times, “If I knew what I know today about raising children what I good job I could do now. If my dance with leukemia was my training I have had the opportunity to live with uncertainty. This makes it easier for me to live in this time when we don’t know how this will end. I just live….each day….with thanks to God and grace.”

That is why I don’t want too many days to pass without catching up with Charlotte. We talk about her leadership role and key decisions, about health and family. She supports and lifts me up as much as I try to be there for her.

She could be tired, overwhelmed, or scared by the threat of this virus to her fragile health, but not our Charlotte. She is realistic and living with purpose and taking each day as a gift.

Leslie

PS. I have sought out seven of the many people whose opinions I value and asked them to answer the same question about the marathon we find ourselves in. The final blog in this series will be tomorrow. I hope you’ve found what these folks had to say to be interesting. And valuable.