Hero Waiting to Shine

The advertisement on the RTD bus had a picture of a young child in a super hero outfit with the caption “There’s a hero in all of us just waiting to shine.” The ad was to encourage people to ride the bus. I found myself thinking about the concept of heroism.

We tend to think of heroism in a narrow way—running into a burning building to save a child, throwing oneself on a grenade to save comrades.

Yet heroic is a word that often comes to mind when I observe aging people, especially in a culture like ours that worships youth and doesn’t seem to put much stock in the wisdom of its elders.

My friend Loris is a hero to me. Loris is 96 years old and sharp as the proverbial tack. She never married and her only surviving sibling lives in California. After living in her 2 bedroom home for 55 years, she made the decision to move into an independent living facility. She gave away most of her belongings and downsized to a studio apartment. She started a new life in a new home at the age of 93.

I was worried about her when she first moved but she seemed to make the transition well. Her response to my question about how she made such a big transition with seeming ease, she said it was because it was her idea. “Some people in here,” she said, “were told they were coming here by their kids. At least I made the decision for myself.”

She has no problem speaking her mind. When I told her we were painting the house, she said “Did you get rid of that awful purple in the dining room?” I assured her that we did!

She also was ahead of her time. She moved from Pueblo Colorado to Denver for her job. Her siblings tried to pressure her to move her parents to Denver to live with her. Her father was an alcoholic. “I’m not transplanting the problem,” she said when she refused her siblings’ request.

When her father died, she moved her mother up to Denver. “Those years my mother lived here with me were the best of her life. I enjoyed having her,” Loris shared.

To me Loris is a hero because somehow, despite the many losses she’s experienced in her long life, she finds a reason to get up every day. And not just to get up, but to have a good attitude and be pleasant to be around.

I wonder if I would have her attitude if I lived on my own surrounded by strangers, having outlived my friends and family. Somehow she finds meaning in her life. I consider her not only a hero, but a model for aging gracefully while remaining feisty!

How do you define heroism?