Rhonda Reese Purtee

A number of years ago, well before my first brain tumor diagnosis my pastor at the time, Kevin Seymour, preached a sermon on the Leaners and the Lifters.  In relationships, some people are Leaners; they always need to be on the receiving end of the relational exchange.  We’ve all got some of those in our life.  But there are some others who are the Lifters.  When they are walking alongside you they make whatever load you’re carrying a little lighter.  You never actually ask them to be a Lifter, they just do it.  

One of the harder parts of living with a brain tumor, for me anyway, has been the recognition that I am a Leaner more often now – it bugs me; probably always will, but wow, am I grateful for all the Lifters that bless my life.  Kim is one of my Lifters.  She’s been doing my hair (along with the rest of my family’s) for a lot of years now.  Before I walk into her shop, she has already dimmed the lights.  I’ve never asked her to, she just somehow knew to do it when my recurrence decided to get snarky. I don’t know this for sure, but I’m guessing that cutting and coloring hair in the dark isn’t taught anywhere. She has a bottle of water for whenever I’ve forgotten to bring mine and I need to take some meds.  She stays booked full for weeks out, but is endlessly gracious if I’m too sick to drive and cancel on her.  If I’m not able to lean back into the wash sink she’ll do a dry and dirty haircut; I’m thinking that must cause some kind of internal heebie-jeebie response for her, but she acts like it’s no big deal.  She somehow knows if it needs to be a chatty or a quiet day.  There is really no way to quantify how much a Lifter helps a rough day – in the big things and the countless little adjustments and accomodations they quietly extend to make a day easier, but it does help so very much.

For all of you who are Lifters; thank you.  For everything you do and don’t do; say and don’t say, I am grateful.