What Chris Taught me About Gratitude
Chris was not returning my emails. My impatience grew so I marched up to his office to nudge him for a reply. I stood by the doorway about to blurt out my thoughts when I saw his face was inches away from the computer monitor. I walked over and stood next to him. He was scrolling with the mouse as he read each word–the font was enlarged to the maximum size of the 24-inch screen. I knew Chris was legally blind but I had no clue what it was like behind the scenes. He always projected a sense of effortlessness in his interactions with people. Sometimes, I forgot he had a visual impairment.
Chris Giuntoli was afflicted with a rare eye condition at the age of fifteen. In three years, he was legally blind. He wanted people to treat him like everyone else so he trained himself to move around without a cane. He harnessed the power of his memory and the rest of his senses to compensate for his eyes. He was determined to live a full life despite his condition.
Chris took a job as a steward after finishing his Hotel Business Management degree at Penn State University. He memorized the entire event floor plan at the hotel, roughly the size of a football field, in order to get his bearings and perform his job well. Management took notice. Eventually, he rose through the ranks and became the Director of Event Planning. He excelled in his 25-year career using assistive technology such as an audio calculator, a talking blackberry, a high-intensity magnifying projector, and a supportive team behind him. He is married and has two grown children.
I changed the way I collaborated with him after that day in his office. You see, paper trails were crucial in my line of work. "Always get something in writing and remember, CYA (cover your ass)! " was valuable advice from colleagues when I started working in the industry. With Chris, I trusted his word and replaced emails with phone conversations. This small change allowed him to make swift decisions. I scribbled our discussion after every call for my records. His memory for the minor details was razor-sharp that I hardly referred to my notes.
Then things began to shift. He ran into equipment, bumped into guests, and fumbled in the stairwells. He had a few close calls endangering his life both in the street and inside the hotel. He went for a check-up and the results were far worse than expected. He was advancing toward complete blindness and the doctor’s prognosis was within 5-10 years.
He broke the news to me during one of our conversations on a busy day, in between helping our meeting planner. What he said afterward I never forgot.
"I am grateful I didn't get a death sentence," he added.
His words replayed in my mind during my commute home. The depth of his gratitude, resilience, and persevering spirit profoundly moved me. I have kept a gratitude journal for a few years jotting down the smallest of things I was thankful for. Sometimes, I questioned if this practice even made a difference. Transitions are inevitable. Challenges are ever-present. How about life throwing a curve ball or two? Chris’ story inspired me to keep going. Meister Eckhart, a Catholic theologian, philosopher, and mystic said, “if the only prayer you ever say in your entire life is thank you, it will be enough.”
Chris and I kept in touch after he retired. I'd take him to nearby restaurants and we'd catch up. We both switched to a whole foods plant-based diet roughly around the same time and shared tips and recipes. He uses a cane now and occasionally takes the bus downtown when needed. He is a voracious learner and eagerly imparts his latest discoveries on health, animals, and the environment. I bet he'll be a great TED talk speaker someday.
(Does anyone know someone at TED Talk?)
Covid-19 and home renovations have delayed our meet-up. He promises to touch base once it is completed. I look forward to seeing him again.
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Here’s an article about Chris Giuntoli, John Babcock, and Claudia Coleman’s experience during the 1989 Loma Prieta Earthquake:
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