
The first time I met Susan I thought she came across as rude and opinionated. I had just started a new job and my boss introduced her as my project manager. She looked to be a few years older than me, wore a black dress and jewelry that seemed better suited for going out on the town, than an office, but she made it clear that she was all business.
She came right up to me and said that I better get used to her because we were going to be spending a lot of time together. She made the comment to say that we would be working closely together, but it came across as brusque and territorial.
When we were alone, I asked my boss about Susan and he told me to give her a chance. She wasn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but she was smart and knew a ton about our business and he was hopeful that we could become a strong team.
Getting off to a rough start
I still wasn’t sure what to think of Susan when we met for our first meeting. When I tried to get to know her better and share some things about myself, telling her about my background and where I grew up, she seemed to talk down to me. I remember walking away from the meeting thinking “who is this woman?” (I would find out later that we actually had a lot in common and shared experiences.)
Despite the rough start, we worked well enough together for the first six months. I was in a lead communications and change management role and she was my project manager, helping keep projects on deadline and ensuring that key obstacle were overcome.
At the sixth month mark, we hit a huge snag, I was getting ready to launch a challenging companywide communications campaign. She warned me that I might run into problems with a particular executive. I listened to her concerns, but pooh-poohed them. I had already had a conversation with him and he agreed to support my work. I made the decision that we were moving ahead hell or high water.
Sure enough, her predictions were spot on, instead of being a proponent, he went back on his word and was slow in giving us the approvals we needed. We were going to miss a key deadline and potentially cost the firm significant business. I was fit to be tied and Susan stood back with her arms crossed as if to say, “I told you so.”
When we met the next day to plot out a plan, she was late to the meeting. I was mad as heck. I couldn’t be mad at the executive, he was two or three spots above me, but I could be mad at Susan for blowing off my meeting. I didn’t have time to waste.
When she finally arrived, I criticized her for being late. Instead of getting mad, she explained that she got us the approvals we needed. She had experience with the executive in the past and knew that his decision-making was less than speedy and needed coaxing. She reminded him that his boss was already on board and by slowing us down, he was only hurting himself.
We started out as oil and water, but soon became close friends. We worked together for several more years and I always knew what to expect from her. I ended up moving to a new role and she’s long been the role model that I compare every other colleague I meet. Few can live up to her example.

The epitome of courage
A few years later, I came across Susan in the lunchroom. She was still dressed to the nines, but she looked tired. She looked like she had been through the ringer. It turns out that she was battling breast cancer and going through a challenging series of chemo treatments.
When I think of courageous people, I think of her. When I asked what was motivating her to go through the chemo treatment and then get up in the morning and come into work, her response was heartbreaking.
“I could give up, I could say the heck with it, I’ve been tempted more than a few times, but what kind of message would I be giving to my husband and to my kids? What kind of message would be I leaving for myself?”
She paused for a long time. I tried to say something to cheer her up, but she put up a finger to tell me to hold on, and when she composed herself, she said, “I’m going to fight this %$!@$ for as long as I can, with everything I’ve got. I’ve never been more frightened in my life, but I’m giving it my all.”
I tried to offer my support and let her know that we were all in her corner, but she decided that she had enough of talking about cancer and changed the subject, asking instead about my kids. I shook my head, that I wasn’t ready to change the subject, but she was having none of it. She wanted to know what my kids were up to in school and I could try my best to change the subject, but she knew best and she was going to have her way.
Of course, she won the argument. We talked the rest of the lunch about her children, my kid’s latest achievements, and a few other things. When we were done, we hugged and I wished her well. “Damn right, I’m going to be well,” she said.
Unfortunately, Susan passed away later that year. She fought until the end. She never gave up. And, yes, I suspect project schedules in heaven have never been in better hands.
I think often about her message to me. When the deep fog rolls in and I have a tough decision to make, I reflect on several key questions: What kind of message or example would I be leaving to those closest to me? What kind of message would I be leaving for myself? Can I look myself in the mirror?
Who are the courageous people in your life? What does courage mean to you?
. . . . . .
Please join in on the discussion on the HoTM site. In addition, please visit my personal blog at www.writingfromtheheartwithbrian.com to read my companion piece. In addition, you can follow me on Instagram at @writingfromtheheartwithbrian.
All the best, Brian.
Images by Pexels.
Wow just wow that was an amazing post. Just imagine how many people do that everyday.
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Yes, that is what is staggering, the thought that people face similar challenges like that everyday all around us. Some we know, some we don’t know. Kind of sad and amazing all at the same time. She was a special woman. It was great to work with her, learn from her, and get to know her better. Thanks for reading and the kind comment.
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You’re welcome it was truely heart felt
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Indeed. And how many times we don’t know that. It reminds me of that saying: “Courage is what it takes to stand up and speak. Courage is also what it takes to sit down and listen.” Here’s to more listening and more courage to change our mind next year?
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Very sorry for your loss, Brian. An extraordinary person.
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Yup, she really was a great woman. I mentioned elsewhere that her comment stuck in my head for months after we chatted. It really got me thinking about my own actions and how I want my kids and others to think of me. Thanks for the kind comment.
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What a remarkable woman she was.
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Yes, Sadje, she was a great woman. I learned a ton from her. I’m glad we were able to become good friends. Thank you for reading and the kind comment.
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My pleasure
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I have so often underestimated, misjudged people – only to see their virtues later. The stuff that’s initially irksome can become admirable. I love this story for that reason. I was struck by your honest recall of the conversation with Susan where you wanted to offer support and she needed a diversion…a break, perhaps, to listen to you, hear about your children. Normal things as she was dealing with the fight of her life. You are such a good person, Brian. Thank you for sharing Susan’s story with us. 💕
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You hard on people, misjudging and short with them? I can’t believe it Vicki. You’re just being kind. Ha, ha. Yes, it was a little awkward at first between Susan and myself. I guess we were both feeling each other out. In the end, we both became great friends and became big supporters of each other. As far as being a “good person” . . . I definitely have you hoodwinked there. I was my normal sarcastic, selfish self. She just knew how to manage me. Ha, ha. Thanks for reading and for the kind comments. Much appreciated. I mentioned elsewhere, it was easier to write than I thought. I guess time does heal all wounds.
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Beautiful, beautiful post Brian. 🥰😉🥰
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😎😎😎😎
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Tears! This is so well written! I have worked with women like Susan, and even have a few like her in my family. The questions you now as yourself are beautiful to help us all stay on our path til we depart.
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Thanks Sheila, I appreciate the kind comments. It was an interesting story to write. I thought it would be hard, but it seemed to “write itself” once I got going. Time has helped. She was such an amazing fighter too. Her example just jumped out at you. It made writing about all the more easier. Thanks again for reading.
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This reminds me of my friend Rita. She continued to work, and avoided all discussion of her advancing cancer, until I was diagnosed, and then she let me know she was there for me. I was fine, she died shortly after. I don’t think anyone realizes what courage it takes to carry on in the face of such a challenge.
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Yup, VJ, sounds very similar. And yes, I’m with you. I don’t think people understand the challenges and yet, there’s thousands (I’m probably underestimating the number) of people who suffer through this kind of a challenge on a daily basis. She stopped working only when it got to be too hard. Probably one of the toughest woman I’ve ever met. Thanks for reading VJ.
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My pleasure, Brian
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Susan used the skills she was blessed with and didn’t appear to let personalities get in the way of the right path. Thank you for sharing Susan’s inspirational story and how it impacted you and others who loved and knew her.
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We used to joke that she didn’t suffer fools gently, meaning she had high expectations. I think that’s one of the reasons we got along so well once we got over some initial struggles. We both wanted the same thing. She was a strong leader, but I feel lucky that I was able to become her friend and get to know her even better. Thanks for reading!!!
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If Susan had high expectations on earth then she would have been eager to meet God’s heavenly expectations!
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“What kind of message would I be giving to my husband and to my kids?” OOF, that hit me right in the feels. To be suffering so much, yet focused on other takes next-level selflessness. Thank you for sharing Susan’s inspiring story with us, Brian.
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I felt the same way. I remember the comment sticking in my head weeks later. I would be driving and it would just jump out at me. I think the comment epitomized her spirit, tough on the outside, loving to her family on the inside. Thanks for reading!
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A powerful reminder Brian that we all can use not to judge others, to be open to different styles and approaches. Then to read that this powerful presence was facing a battle, and probably doubting her power to cope, overcome, and thrive even when she voiced otherwise showed such a human side. It is all too easy to overlook that human side when we find that we sort of entangle ourselves in not fully seeing and knowing another person. I hear you saying that Susan was a mentor of sorts for you and I’m sure her loss was/is a struggle filled with both gratitude and sadness even now.
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She was an interesting women. We were collaborators and she could have some strong opinions, but when she believed in your work, there was no one else who was a bigger supporter. Yes, she was definitely a strong role model. Glad she became a close friend. Thanks for your kind comments.
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Wow! What an example of courage. When I think of courageous people in my life, I think of my son. He wouldn’t say he’s courageous, but he lives with a handful of challenges most people will never know or have to deal with. The thing is, most of his challenges are the invisible kind. But I know he’s here for a purpose, and as his mother it’s my job to get him as prepared as I can. Thanks for sharing such a heart felt story.
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I can relate. My oldest son is dyslexic. He faced a number of challenges in high school, but now reads thick philosophy and military books that I never would have imagined. He graduated and is doing extremely well. I’ve always said his example was courageous for me, because he never got down on himself, was inspirational for me to watch. Hang in there mariner2mother! Thanks for reading.
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This definitely made me cry, especially with what my family is going through now. I would have been totally intimidated by Susan. It would have been easy to label her as a difficult person and not learn from her expertise and experience in the firm. Good for you for letting her help you out and mentor you.
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Oh, I’m sorry Elizabeth. I should’ve been more thoughtful. Sending prayers you DIL way. Susan was a tough one. She had a way of getting what she wanted. I learned a ton from her. We ended up working as a good team!
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No reason to apologize. It’s something I can definitely relate to now. My DIL is the oldest of seven and helped raise her siblings, teaching them to read and getting them into Ivy’s. She’s six feet tall and strong as can be. Her entire family is overwhelming — brilliant, talented and built like Amazons! If anyone is going to make, it, it will be her. It sounds like Susan was a character, knew exactly what she was doing and made a loyal teammate.
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Oh, she sounds wonderful, happy for her and your son. Yes, Susan was definitely a character! A good way of describing her.
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👍🏼👍🏼
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Isn’t it interesting how people who initially come off as so abrupt can turn into our biggest allies? I have worked with a few people like that over th years.
I can relate to Susan’s story. When facing breast cancer myself, I fought to keep life as normal as possible for my two daughters who were 11 and 8 at the time. I’m sorry Susan didn’t win her battle but she fought on her own terms and set an amazing example for her family.
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Yes, she did! She was an extremely brave and courageous woman. Learned a ton from her.
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Wow, Brian. What a profile in courage. Amazing that Susan left you, and I’m sure so many others, with an incredible question to measure your efforts and choices against. This post is so beautifully written with deep conviction and compassion that it’s thoroughly under my skin and will stay with me. Thank you!
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I’m speechless. Thank you Wynne. Just trying to tell a good story!
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As I wander away from the blogosphere and into the hubbub of the day ahead, I do so with tear-filled gladness to have “met” this piece of Susan here. Thank you–for that, and for the chuckle at “project schedules in heaven have never been in better hands.” Such beautiful both/and woven through this all.
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Oh, I know it’s heaven and all, and things are supposed to be, well, heavenly, but I’m pretty sure she’s crackin’ the whip getting people to meet deadlines and not letting anyone slip or procrastinate. Ha ha, Heaven help them! 🙂🤣🤣 Thanks for the kind words.
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What a beautiful story of courage and friendship, Brian. Susan sounded like a wonderful role model and teacher and a fighter till the end.
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She was definitely a great friend and fought until the end!!!! Thx!!!
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Thanks for sharing that! It reminds me not to be so quick to judge, and makes me think of the courageous people I’ve known in my own life. Life requires a certain amount of courage just to survive, but some people face much bigger challenges than others. I’m glad you had Susan in your life….
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Yes, a reminder that we’re all carrying our burdens! Some are just more noticeable.
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Friendship and courageous inspiration – cheers to your wonderful mentor that made such an impact on your life!
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I know a Susan type who has not only battled cancer, but a carotid artery dissection and other health issues, all while struggling through a long unemployment stint and searching vainly for love. And yet, she is the sunniest, most cheerful person I know. Courage to me is maintaining a positive attitude in the face of such adversity.
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I love your outlook on courage. It’s easy to root for people like that! Sending positive thoughts and prayers to your version of Susan.
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