Reflections of Life produces gorgeous short films that uplift the personal stories of ordinary people, with the goal of sharing ideas and inspiring change. We feel hugely blessed to feature video-stories that filmmakers Michael and Justine capture with exquisite expertise, and which so beautifully illustrate grateful living principles and practices. In this short film we hear from Lisa Smith.
Learn more about Reflections of Life (formerly Green Renaissance) through our Grateful Changemaker feature.
Video Transcript
In the early hours, I think it was about 2am, I woke up crying. I said to Gary, ‘I’ve had a terrible dream. Something terrible is going to happen today.’ And he put his arms around me and he said, ‘Life’s a process. Go with the flow.’ At 2pm, they phoned me to say that Gary looked like he’d had a fit. And I realized Gary had had a stroke. I was told that Gary would have less than 4% concentration, that it was unlikely that he would speak again, that he wouldn’t ever function like he had been.
Gary, he’d say that there are two types of people…one person who’s a victim and one person who’s accountable for life. Gary was always accountable… always. He never said to me, ‘why me? It’s not fair. It shouldn’t have happened to me. If only.’
Gary always loved horses. The horses were definitely Gary’s best friend. I was somewhere down the line, I was the caregiver. The one that was bossy, and the one that insisted that he had his medication. There wasn’t a day that Gary didn’t go out. He was out with the horses at 6am every single morning, cleaning them, grooming them, walking with them, checking their feet. I think one of the beauties that you have when you have no language is you don’t have to talk to a horse. You just have to communicate.
Gary always said to me, ‘It’s the intention’. Words become meaningless after a while because you just intuitively know what that thing, person, being is saying. I think what people miss is that you’re not your language. You’re not your voice. You’re not the words that come out of your mouth. You are more than that. Unfortunately we’ve allowed language to get in the way. And that was Gary’s gift. Gary lost his language in order to gain his language, in order to communicate with people, in order to talk to the horses. That in silence there’s nothing you can’t do.
Animals have so much to teach us in terms of true communication, about true commitment, about living in the moment, if only we were willing to listen. I found it very difficult sometimes to express to the people closest to me how I was feeling. So I burdened the horses. I would go out and talk to them. The ones that wanted to hear me would come and stand close. The horses eased my pain and allowed what was happening to just be.
I promised Gary that I would never put him back into hospital again. That if he had another stroke or he was going to die he would be at home and I would be with him. Gary was really sick. We managed to carry Gary into the car and out of nowhere, the horses arrived. The horses stood in a guard of honor, in a line, as we drove out of the gate. They knew that Gary wasn’t coming home and they went to greet him, to say goodbye.
If I had to thank the horses in any way it would be… my heart to their heart for the honor and the glory that they gave Gary, for the love and the kindness they gave Gary. There is no word that I could use to thank them. It would be from my heart to their heart.
If anything, I was blessed to have that man in my life. Really blessed. He had made a difference in my life. He’d shown me how to communicate. He taught me to be strong. He taught me to be brave. He showed me that I could do it. And most of all he told me I was proud of who I was. One of the things that I learned from Gary as well is about wonderment. When we used to come home to the farm we have this wonderful little pass that you come over. When you get to the very top it looks like a valley of 1,000 hills. And Gary would open his arms and say, ‘My Shire.’ I can go outside and I can see the lights on the Strelitzia. I can watch my mums Eucharis Lily flowering. I can angle it so that the sunshine comes through it and I’m in wonderment.
I’ve learned about joy. It’s here. It’s deep, deep, deep inside me.
Don’t waste a moment of your life. Share it. Love it. Be kind to somebody next door to you.
It’s about this amazing journey that we call life and all the crazy moments that we have are moments that you can never, ever replace. You can never, ever forget them. And man, I’ve been on a crazy ride with a very crazy man and it’s been wonderful.
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Thank you very much! The high & low notes in a beautiful sounding chord is a perfect image for me and others I have already shared this with as well.
I agree – Wonderment was a gift to watch and savor.
This was pure magic; I felt every word she shared. Her joy and gratefulness is palpable. Despite the fact her experience was laced with sorrow, joy and love permeate.
Really wonderful! Sweet, kind, adorable
Thank you very much!!
The music video, the poem, and the video on Wonderment were incredibly beautiful. While listening, watching, and reading, I was able to connect with the joy and the suffering. Thanks so much for putting this together. In view of what is going on in the world today, particularly the horrors of the war in Gaza, it was good to be able to learn that joy could be held at the same time.
The concept of having both joy and sorrow, is very present in my life today. I have adopted a child and he just turned 5. Being a mom is hard but the greatest gift in life. Among my joy and sense of being another mother who chose adoption experiences pain and grief. It’s a complicated matrix of emotions that at times overwhelm me. I want to be like the horses and be present to these emotions, to accept and embrace both and to find wonderment among them.