An Outlandish Woman
Be like Sadie. Do the outlandish thing.
Since Sadie passed away a month ago, it seems that we’ve all been gaslighting each other into believing that she was some kind of saint who succeeded at everything she did. And look, she did some good things and she had some good times. But let’s be real: Sadie had a dark side, too.
Consider her treatment of toothpaste tubes. Did she squeeze gently? No. Did she start at the end, slowly working her way toward the opening as she coaxed out every last fluoridated drop? Nope. No, Sadie mangled her toothpaste tubes. I mean absolutely manhandled them. For a while I tried to share toothpaste with her. But she did horrible, unspeakable things to those poor tubes. When I saw my toothpaste treated that way, I was crestfallen.
And don’t get me started on what she did to our vehicles over the years. Do you have any idea how many ditches she wound up in, mirrors she removed, basketball poles she knocked out of vertical, and gas pump hoses she drove off with?
It’s also Sadie’s fault that I run so much. I would have been happy running 5Ks for the rest of my life, with perhaps the occasional 10K thrown in here and there. But Sadie made outlandish things (such as me ever running more than 8 miles) seem possible because she did outlandish things and showed not only that they were possible, but that they could bring joy.
Sadie ran cross country and track in high school. She was slow. She often finished last, or at least near the back. But she loved running. She loved it. She loved the camaraderie and she loved being outside and she loved how running made her feel. After high school she kept on running. She began running more and more, eventually running marathons where her slow-and-steady approach paid dividends. She got the license plate RUNRGAL. She joined running groups. She had good runs and bad runs. She finished dead last in the Lincoln Marathon one year. And then she went home where she signed up for her next race. It was outlandish to think that the slow girl from Lincoln Southeast High School would go on to be such a runner. Sadie made it happen.
Sadie’s career was defined by her seeing a problem and taking outlandish steps to solve it. She started simply enough, as a math teacher. Her district needed adult English as a Second Language instructors. Sadie didn’t teach adults and she didn’t teach ESL. She figured it out and did it anyway. Sadie had never intended to do anything but work out of the home, yet once we filled our home with children, she learned how to be a stay-at-home mom and homeschooler. For a while we were parents to an outlandish eight children, several of whom had high needs. She was an amazing mother to them all. She got hired at a Montessori preschool despite being neither a Montessori teacher nor a preschool teacher. While at Parkview, she earned a Masters in counseling so that she could be the school’s counselor. Never was there an outlandish situation that she didn’t overcome with a smile on her face.
But the most outlandish thing she ever did – the most improbable, ridiculous, bizarre, and totally Sadie thing – was rescuing a southern bog lemming named Scrat.
It was a cool, cloudy, rainy day. Sadie came home from a run, all bundled up in her waterproof running jacket, with something in her hands. She went into the kitchen, got some towels, and carefully placed upon them a tiny, hairless, pink critter. Its eyes weren’t even open! It had no business being on our kitchen counter. And yet, there was Sadie, trying to find a way to warm it up.
Sadie started making phone calls. She tried several animal rescue organizations. She explained to each of them that she had found this … thing on the bike path while out on a run. She had picked it up and carried it home, a mile and a half away. Eventually somebody recommended feeding the critter kitten formula from an eyedropper. Nobody thought it would survive the night.
It did.
It survived the next night, too. Eventually three things became clear: this was some kind of rodent; it had every intention of living; and we were now its parents. As its parents, we were tasked with naming it. We chose Scrat, after the acorn-hoarding squirrel from the Ice Age movies.
Scrat thrived. He grew fur. His eyes opened. He ate more foods. He began to run around. And believe it or not, he turned out to be a fun and amazing pet.
I never would have picked up that little pink goober from the sidewalk. Chances are, you wouldn’t have either. We would have left it for an owl or a fox to find. But Sadie did the outlandish thing of picking it up and taking it home and making it comfortable and feeding it and saving its life. And because of her outlandish act, our family gets to tell the fun story of the time we had a southern bog lemming named Scrat as a pet.
We can’t always do the wild and crazy thing. We can’t always run marathon after marathon; or quit a job to become a homeschooler; or earn a quick Masters degree; or carry an infant rodent a mile and a half through the rain. But Sadie showed us that sometimes we can, and it’ll be worth it.
Or maybe we’ll fail. Although Scrat lived, a baby bird and baby squirrel – other critters Sadie tried to rescue – didn’t. And remember those 8 kids I mentioned? A short while later, we were back to three. Sadie gave herself permission to fail, and that freed her to try so many wonderful things. Indeed, it’s why she had so many friends in so many different circles. It’s because she did the outlandish thing and tried.
And so that’s what I ask from each of us. I have been asked many times what people can do for us or how they can honor Sadie. Simply, you can take a lesson from Sadie and do that outlandish thing – that thing that’s outside of your comfort zone, that seems a little outlandish, but is doable. Become a foster parent. Finish your degree. Invite your neighbors over for supper. Run for political office. Go to marriage counseling. Take piano lessons.
Do the outlandish thing. Give it a genuine, authentic try, and give yourself permission to fail. It’s what Sadie did throughout her life, and we are all better for it.
This piece is a modified version of my tribute to Sadie at her Celebration of Life on Saturday, October 21, 2023.