Portal de Periódicos da CAPES

In Her Shoes

2017; Wiley; Volume: 24; Issue: 2 Linguagem: Inglês

10.1111/acem.13127

1553-2712

Sarah Andrus Gaines,

Nursing Education, Practice, and Leadership

Emma Rose turned 5 yesterday. She is the definition of spunky, sass, and spice. Gives her parents a run for the money every time she's asked to clean up her room, be good to her sister, and put on a pair of shoes. Nothing is simple—she is just too fierce for that. And that passion presents a great challenge and presents a great gift. She has a dear friend in her pre-K class, a beautiful soul, grace beyond her years because she has lived with leukemia for half of her life—living with it and thankfully conquering it. On picture day, Emma's friend was afraid, afraid of school pictures because she associated it with tests and procedures that were part of her treatments—fear that was well founded, fear that an adult would have had a hard time handling. And when she was afraid, the teacher got Emma, her best friend, and Emma held her and hugged her. And, then her friend was ready—and she shined beautifully, just like her radiant self, as she smiled for her picture. Later that week, Emma's friend got new shoes. The same ones Emma has. Gray patent leather Mary-Janes with orange flowers. And those two fierce warriors wear those shoes to school each day as they take on this world. Matching shoes for matching souls. Faith turned 89 this year. She is the definition of grace, resilience and now, sadly, in the hands of fate. She lives alone, she always had, but was reaching the point where she no longer could. So she came into the emergency department and she saw me. She came in with her best friend. We worked through the medical questions and the social questions. And as we came up with a plan for her I could see a change in her—a calm and reassurance slowly spread across her face. And all the while her friend's hand rested on her bed, a steady presence. I'm not sure if it was the new plan for her life that reassured her or her friend's steadiness. Or maybe it was both. And as we chatted I looked at these women who had been best friends for half a century. And I was wowed. What a respect and love they showed for each other. Her friend sat in her chair, so elegant and so caring. And as I looked at her, I noticed her fabulous clothes and most of all her shoes—brown and gray lace-ups, stylish yet supportive, defining a woman who has challenged—and conquered—this world. And Faith, in her bed, was frail but radiated with that same resounding strength nonetheless. I could see why they were friends. And as I pulled back Faith's sheet to examine her, I smiled. She wore the same shoes. Emma is my daughter. What a gift she is and what a beautiful responsibility I have with her. She conveys defiance and love in every ounce of her little self. Empathy radiates from her and she is my example every day of the love this world is capable of. Her fight may give me my days of shaking my head but her love sustains me. I may need some new shoes myself to keep up with her—better make them sneakers built for running.