When Doors Open

So, I know this guy. We’ve never non-virtually met; we’ve shared auditorium space a few years ago and back in January, a live screen. But John O’Leary speaks to me every Saturday morning, and for almost three weeks, virtually every day.

As a 9-year-old kid, O’Leary survived an explosion that took out a garage and most of a house and touched 98% of his skin. I’ve heard John’s story of survival and read both books, On Fire and In Awe. But after being part of the virtual audience back in January and reading the second book, I’ve become a better listener. And being a better listener comes in really handy when you find your attention captured by someone who’s purpose is creating a community that “Lives Inspired Together.”

Back on April 27, John issued a 21-Day Challenge. Day One was all about sharing inspiration, meaning, and joy…coming from Gratitude drawn from a struggle with facing adversity. Within a few days, I came across a quote I later shared with my dental team and a professional organization, the American Academy of Clear Aligners (AACA). The quote read:

“When one door of happiness closes, another opens; but often we look so long at the closed door that we do not see the one that has opened for us.” Helen Keller

Here’s what I shared, looking back at the last 12-months:

“1. I’m more in touch with putting myself in the other person’s shoes.

2. I’m welcoming new team members and their energy into my business and life.

3. I’m looking and listening for inspiration; I share quotes and words of inspiration with my team and organization on a daily basis.

4. I’m looking for opportunities to be creative and take some risks.

5. I keep a mantra in my head and share it: Breakdowns create breakthroughs.”

Yesterday, I opened my Saturday morning O’Leary text. And my Special Message about Living Inspired was about caregiving and a story about John’s mom helping her husband make it out of his room, the shower, and house on his way to a surgery. The story brought back memories that really never disappear…and a few tears.

I had the privilege of being my mom’s caregiver for some ten years. Mom always had a smile, loved little kids, and never indulged judging others. And even though she ate the right way, ran instead walked, and weighed-in at 5’0” and 100-lbs, Mom was diagnosed with Type-2 Diabetes (at the age I’ve now achieved.) After the diagnosis, brought on by a gathering of symptoms and a reluctant trip to an Internist, Mom and I became even a more closely knit team (even though it had been just Mom and me for the previous 12-years.)

As the disease progressed, my mom faced every disappointment and challenge with the same smile. Through every setback and disappointment, I think Mom remained most concerned about reassuring me that everything would be alright.

Seeing someone you love more than anything in the world suffer a relentless decline in health is the hardest adversity I’ve experienced. Yet, the day after my mom’s funeral, I drove past Huntington Memorial Hospital in Pasadena; out in the parking lot, I saw a young man helping an elderly lady out of the car. I was envious.

A few years later, a practice advisor suggested I read The Secret. And it’s been almost 20-years, but every morning, as I head down Huntington Drive on the way to the office, I recite all that I’m grateful for… and “Most importantly, I’m grateful for the chance I had to help out Mom.”

Today, the core values listed on the white board in our lunchroom spell out an acronym reading: “Family. Fun. Empathy. Appreciation. Represent (the community). Love. Enthusiasm. Service. And Support. FFEARLESS

Thanks Mom. I’m still working on it.