We picture members of the military, or firemen, and there's good reason for that. They perform heroic acts daily.
But this week, maybe more than any other in my life, I have been reminded that heroism comes in endless forms.
Like yesterday, when I was rushing to my train on my way home from work, and saw a purse that had been left on the sidewalk. I didn't know what to do, because no one was around to ask if they had dropped it. Suddenly, a man came rushing by me, picked up the purse, and ran to an old lady pushing her walker across the intersection. He didn't have to take the time to stop. It was small, but incredibly heroric.
Or a co-worker, who by knowing something was terribly wrong on Friday, ended up giving birth to her baby two months early, but she likely saved the baby's life, and her own. Or the mother of my best friend from elementary school, getting a double masectomy this past week and totally rocking her fight against breast cancer.
For me, the heroic act of the week goes to my aunt, who today is giving one of her kidneys to her son, my phenomenal cousin Kurt, who is just 17.
He has a kidney disease called cystinosis and today, we hope, will change everything for the better for him. He'll have to lay low all summer, but he should be feeling better than he ever has come fall, just in time for his senior year of high school.
The way Kurt handles his disease on a daily basis is no less heroic than my aunt's wonderful display of motherly love.
He never, ever complains. The thing about that is, in 17 years of life, he has almost never felt good physically. A cold can wipe him out for days. He's had multiple surgeries, on everything from his esophagus to his ankles.
Even about this major surgery, he doesn't appear apprehensive. On Sunday, he joked about being worried that with his mom's kidney inside him, he'll hear her voice in his head no matter where he is for the rest of his life. Teenagers.
Kurt was not blessed with fully functioning kidneys, but he was blessed with an endless supply of optimism and contagious laughter.
He was also blessed with a sister Claire who has spent countless hours in the hospital with him and who, although a year younger, may be his fiercest protector. And a dad, Paul, who would do anything, absolutely anything, for him.
That's four heroes in one family.
This week has served as a reminder to me that heroes are among us everyday, in big ways and small. This week reminded me of a line from a Disney movie (not surprinsgly since I know most of them by heart), Hercules, when Zeus says to his son, "A hero is not measured by the size of his strength, but the strength of his heart."
