The Powerful Story of Pam C.

As I sat in the corner booth at Panera, cold coffee in my cup, emotion washed over me.  I know there is a story in what just happened.  I can feel it.  I start writing, but gobble-de-gook comes out.  I start again...not much better.  So, I ask myself ‘What do I feel?’  Then, I listen for the answer.  It takes a few moments, but it comes to me like the proverbial dove with the olive branch...an offering.  The encounter made me feel grateful, proud and connected.  With this welling of abundance filling my heart I start to write.  I only hope I can do the story justice...

Comfortably ensconsed in My Panera Booth, coffee mug in hand, pondering a FB post, deeply absorbed in my thoughts, I was drawn out of my ‘far-away place’ by a ‘Hey!  It’s Lisa!’  Old friends, whom I had not seen in years, had pulled up at the table next to me.  Doing the 5 minute catch up on their lives and children, the conversational torched was passed to me.  ‘So, what are you up to?’ they asked.  

‘I’m so excited!  The book project, Fearless Voices: True Stories by Brave Women, that I have been a part of for a year is finally done.  Our launch is April 29.  It’s a book filled with stories about regular women and how they have been fearless.  It was an amazing experience.  These women are awesome. This whole subject is where my passion lies right now.  I want so much to help women find their courage.'  We all chatted back and forth for a short while longer then said our good-seeing-you’s and they left.  

Shortly after that, a woman, in the prime of life (that would be in her 50’s ) walked up and said ‘I heard you talking about women being fearless, and providing programs for women. It’s so important that as women we talk about fearlessness.’ I whole-heartedly agreed. 

Our conversation meandered, as it can with strangers.  Although, for whatever reason, this women didn't feel like a stranger.  We discussed the history of the book project and her very strong connection to the theme.  It was then that her story unfolded.  She was an army wife of 35+ years.  She had moved 22 times in 35 years.  ‘It was hard.  But, we just did it.  You just kept going, because that’s what you do.’  she said.  

She continued to hold me spellbound as she shared her family's tale.  Over the years she had moved so many times, watched her husband and her sons go off to war.  She had been through so much, I kept thinking.  She's been so courageous, so brave.

Then, she became very still, got a far away look in her eyes, and I knew something important was coming.  She took a deep breath and said ‘and just recently, my daughter was deployed to Afghanistan, and she has a 5 year old boy, my grandson.‘  A sigh escaped her lips, as though emotional restraint was a challenge.  ‘It’s harder.  I don’t know why.  But, with a daughter it’s harder.  She’s a woman, going into a country that does not honor women. It’s just...harder‘  It was obvious that she struggled with her feelings, not wanting to discount the service her husband and sons had all provided this country in the same capacity.  

We talked some more, of being mothers, and wives, comforting children and grandchildren when mothers are away, and of moving forward, pushing on even when things are really hard.  We shared stories of being ‘on-call’ to be helpful, and stepping back to allow for growth and independence.  We talked as women.

I knew exactly what she was talking about. We are both women, kindred spirits. We shared that bond.  In that moment I felt that connection once again.  The connection that had eluded me my whole life, but seems to present itself over and over again to me now that I honor my feminine spirit.  I felt the connection to this mother, as a woman.  I felt a connection to her daughter, serving our country half way around the world.  I felt the bond a mother feels for a grown daughter, and the protective energy a young mother feels for her baby.  I felt the fear of a woman going to a hostile place, the dedication to cause a woman feels for something she believes in, and the angst a woman feels when loved ones are sad or at risk.  I felt it all because I am a woman.  

It all washed over me, making me feel full and tense.  We looked at each other and shared this moment.  We are both wise women.  We understand things.  We understood each other.  And, it was powerful.

I thanked her for her story, and for the gift she and her family have given me, and my country.  

Godspeed Pam C.  I am a better woman for your story.  My life is richer.  Your courage and that of your brave daughter have made me proud to be a woman, huge heart-swelling proud.  I am one of these amazing creatures.  Their fight is my fight.  Their courage is my courage.  Together, our fearlessness is our strength.  It is what connects us, one to the other, a community of fearless women through all time

This is dedicated to the men and women of the Armed Services.  The gift you give so freely is not taken lightly.  

I would love to hear your stories of fearless women you know.  Please share...especially if it is a story about yourself.