IT has been said here and elsewhere that crisis reveals character. No matter who we try to be or pretend to be, when disaster strikes, the real person comes out. Some show they are heroes: the woman who leaps into raging water to save a child or the man who rushes into a burning building to pull others out. Some reveal their cowardice or selfishness: the man who sneaks onto life raft meant for women and children or a hoarder of food.
Crisis does not have to be so dramatic, of course. We do not need a war in the Ukraine to experience crisis. Sometimes, it is much more personal than that. We lose a job or a mate. Our retirement nest egg is wiped out for reasons outside of our control. We are injured in a way that changes us for the rest of our life.
Many of you remember Rick Kramer. He lived on Saipan and Rota a few years back and has since moved back to the mainland U.S. Rick is the kind of guy who would help anyone at any time, friend or stranger. I have always said that he would give everyone in the world a hug and a hundred dollars if he could.
Rick raised his children the best way he knew, sent them into the world, then looked around for others he could help. He and his wife, Sonia, came to Micronesia to help others and did a splendid job. Their motives were pure, and their assistance was greatly appreciated.
After returning to the mainland, Rick and Sonia continued to help others, a life of self-sacrifice to which many aspire but few achieve. Then Sonia was told she had leukemia. It would take her life slowly, over a period of years, but take her life it would. Surgery would not help, and medication might slow the process but not stop it.
Everyone was so focused on the leukemia that no one really noticed the heart trouble that actually caused her death. Rick woke one morning next to the love of his life and found her motionless, unresponsive. A day with doctors and the best medical technology had to offer could not change what had happened. She died peacefully in her sleep, lying next to her husband of nearly forty-five years.
For Rick, this was the crisis that revealed his character. Beyond being his wife, Sonia was his best friend and his organizer, the one who kept his life together. She paid the bills, looked after the pets, did the shopping and cooking, and a million other things about which Rick had no idea. Until she passed.
Suddenly, Rick got a lesson in how indispensable she was. He had to start cooking, shopping, paying, cleaning, organizing, etc, etc, etc. I have seen many men go to pieces when in a similar situation, and I must confess there was a time when I truly worried for Rick. But then his character shone through.
To pull himself through this tragedy, Rick turned to doing what he always did best. He helped others. He focused his energy and his mind on solving the problems other people were experiencing, which had the therapeutic effect of keeping his mind off his own sorrows. Oh, he still has his moments. Just about daily, he remembers his lost love. We may be at a restaurant when he says, “Sonia used to love this place,” or admiring a view and he says, “Sonia would have enjoyed this.” That is normal and natural, and that is what Rick needs, and what he gives to others: normal and natural.
At sixty-four years old, Rick has just learned to scuba dive. Characteristically, he said, “Too bad Sonia is not here. She would have enjoyed this.” I think that is pretty heroic.
BC Cook, PhD lived on Saipan and has taught history for 20 years. He currently resides on the mainland U.S.
BC Cook
