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When the Lights Went Out
by
Anne Michael
We found our big fuzzy buddy, Maxx, at the Sarasota Humane Society shelter almost fourteen years ago when he was just eight weeks old and weighed in at 27 lbs. Two days ago Maxx’s cancer and pain became more than he could bear and he let us know. The day my husband and I dreaded was upon us. We set the wheels in motion with our vet to release him from his suffering. Today Steve, our small dog Beau and I said goodbye to Maxx. We saw him off with affectionate head and belly rubs. Beau sat by his head and lovingly licked his face as the light went out of Maxx’s eyes.
We changed our minds a thousand times during those two days and
agonized over our decision each time Maxx had a good moment; with no
wheezing or groaning with each move he made. Though the three of us
will miss him, it was the right choice. There were no more options for
our friend. We gave him the best life we possibly could when we rescued
him from the pound. He gave us joy, friendship, protection, affection
and trust. He most assuredly gave as good as he got each and every day,
as though he knew the short life he might have had if we had not
stopped into the animal shelter those many years ago on a whim. Love is
an amazing thing.
It was two days ago, feeling rootless and lost and needing a
distraction from my grief, and feelings of dispirited gloom as I
thought about a future without Maxx, I went on the Internet to see what
was going on in the larger world. I came across an article in a Detroit
paper with a headline that said something like “Woman dies after a
power outage occurred in her home.” It must be a rare thing, I
surmised, to die from having the power go off in a house. I imagined
the occupant had been electrocuted when power was restored. The power
has gone off in my house dozens of times, yet all survived. I felt
compelled to read the article. Thanks to my curiosity, I learned about
an astounding woman. This woman was so amazing I wondered why she
wasn’t in the news more often when she was alive. Her story is one of
courage, persistence, and sheer force of will combined with hard work.
I also learned how it was that this brave woman died at age sixty-one
just because the power went out.
Her name was Dianne Odell. What astounded me was that Dianne lived her
life in an iron lung. She had done so since she was three years old,
after having contracted polio. Up until her early 20s she could be out
of the contraption for short periods of time. But from then until the
end of May of this year she lived inside a metal canister with only her
head sticking out of a gasketed aperture. Her parents never took a
vacation and devoted their entire lives to giving this woman a quality
of life she could not have had in a nursing home. She had many friends
who would come and visit; not because they felt obligated, but because
she was a positive and upbeat person to be around. Even at holiday
dinners, Dianne and her life-giving machine were squeezed into the
dining room. She was left out of nothing.
I cannot imagine what that must have been like for Dianne or her
family. I was riveted and felt rather appalled at my own ennui and lack
of interest in anything other than my own misery. I really did not know
what to do with the excess weight of my grief. So, I read on. I had to
know more. I deepened my Internet search about this woman. In some
strange way, her life and her commitment to living it fully was helping
me deal with my unhappiness over the impending loss of my canine child.
What I found mind-boggling about Ms. Odell is how from that metal tube
she managed to graduate high school. There are young folks all over
this country dropping out of school because they are bored, lazy, or
just don’t see the point. Dianne attempted to get a college degree
until health issues interfered. The college conferred an honorary
degree upon her, not because anyone pitied her, but because she went on
to live a productive life. She was an inspiration to so many people.
She gave speeches to the Rotary, worked the phones for political
campaigns and did tutoring. What was most remarkable was that she wrote
a children’s book called Less Light
by using a voice-activated computer. Dianne didn’t want to dictate the
words to someone else, she wanted to write it herself. By all accounts,
it was something about which she was adamant. It took more than twelve
years for her to write the book. Voice recognition software was
frustrating when it first came out. A few years ago by the grace of
friends, family, and a fundraiser, she had a computer that would allow
her to write her book. Less Light is the story of Binky, a
small star who wanted to become a wishing star. I am hoping this book
is at my local library. I would like to read Binky’s story. It would
seem that Dianne did far more than just wish for things to happen. By
sheer force of will and the unconditional and unbounded love of her
family she made things happen. She became an activist, an author, a
good citizen and helped others.
Discovering Dianne gave me a kind of comfort in the face of my sorrow.
Her life is an inspiration. She was limited only by her body. She made
a lifetime in an iron lung count for something. I understand that the
quality with which a life is lived is what matters. It does my heart
good to be reassured of that.
Sheer force of will could not keep Ms. Odell alive when the power went
out at her house and the generator used for backup failed to kick on.
Dianne’s father and brother-in-law were manually pumping the machine
trying to keep her alive until help arrived. Dianne’s health had been
declining over the past months and the power outage was more than her
body could withstand. How agonizing it must have been for her family to
watch in helpless horror while their best efforts failed to save her. I
consider how loud the silence in the Odell house must be—deafening
without the rhythmic pumping of the iron lung. My gut wrenches just
thinking about it.
I find it difficult to comprehend a life spent in a machine for longer
than I have been on this earth. I cannot even fathom the kind of depth
of love and affection the Odells had for their daughter that they gave
up their own lives so that Dianne could have one. I have never been
tested to that extent. I’d like to think that I am capable of such
selflessness, but I don’t know for sure. Freeman and Geneva Odell,
their daughters Donna and Mary Beth, and son-in-law Will Beyer are
extraordinary people. The article quoted her family as saying they will
miss her, but talked mostly of all the joy she gave them and the kind
of special person she was. I am in awe of such emotional largesse.
These past two days have been most instructive. I felt really sorry for
myself, knowing Steve and I would be losing our big hairy friend, Maxx.
That is until I read Dianne Odell’s story. Making the most out of a
life is an obligation we all have, and I am inspired by what Dianne
accomplished.
I learned a great deal these past two days about the enduring nature of
love from a woman I never met, who passed away when the power went out
in her house, and a pound puppy I’ve known for years who taught me to
love more than I ever thought I could. I am humbled and grateful for
their gifts. Wishing doesn’t change a thing. Love and hard work
does—along with good things to show for a life lived. Love is truly an
amazing thing and a choice we make each and every day!
At age 10, Anne realized she was never going to get to be Miss
America since reading a book was not an acceptable talent. So she went
on to get a job and raise a family. Along the way, she fixed meals,
picked up toys, helped with homework, and collected a drawer full of
rejection slips for her “great American novel.” It was not all bad,
however, since she ended up wallpapering a closet with them. She
currently designs and creates greeting cards for her tiny company, The
Frog Prints, LLC, and also works full-time as a Training Specialist.
Anne is currently tethered to reality by a loving spouse, two dogs and
the occasional hurricane that blows through Florida, although falling
headlong and happily into a book is still her favorite “talent.” She
can be reached at
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