re·sil·ience | \ ri-ˈzil-yən(t)s \
Definition of resilience
1 : the capability of a strained body to recover its size and shape after deformation caused especially by compressive stress
2 : an ability to recover from or adjust easily to misfortune or change
I take exception to this definition of RESILENCE. It is not a noun and recovery does not come easily. It is a person with a name and a face and a life. I met resilence a few days ago. Her name is Anna. She lives in the tiny portion of her house that was not destroyed after the hurricane hit 18 months ago. She is finally rebuilding little by little. After the storm, she took care of family down the road and then many other neighbors before turning to her own needs. She said that serving others was her way of coping with stress and despair. She showed me her living room that had two by four wood wall studs showing and the center was stacked with sheets of new drywall waiting for installation when they had time. She showed me her living room like some people would show their newly remodeled home. What looked like unlivable conditions months away from being completed looked to her like hope and renewal. RESILENCE is not a noun. It is a person named Anna. There are thousands like her. Hurricanes turn nouns into flesh and heartbeats.
Deb Grant, resilient child of God, creative tinker of paper, ink, wood, shiny things, paint and words. The human amusement of a parrot and a dog.
Writer, poet, artist, human, citizen, learner, scruffy, goof.
Word Food by Deb is randomly published. More than weekly, less than daily at the following media sites: