(~3 minute read.)
Sandra Surace is a seasoned professional with a diverse background rooted in education and organisational dynamics with a focus on well-being. She began her career as a devoted teacher contributing significantly to workplace cultures and mental health awareness before transitioning out of the school arena into supporting organisational leadership and culture.
With a Master of Applied Positive Psychology (MAPP) and ongoing studies in the Master of Counselling, Sandra brings a unique blend of insights to her journey. Her commitment is evident in her passion for creating spaces where safety, well-being, and engagement naturally intersect, fostering thriving environments.
Sandra’s deeply personal article on courage is embodied in the image of the majestic willow tree. To Sandra, the willow tree symbolises courage through its quiet strength and calm resilience, gracefully swaying and moving in the face of adversity. This symbolism draws deeply from Sandra’s personal experiences, notably her journey alongside her mother’s battle with Alzheimer’s.
Today, Sandra is our guest blogger, sharing her storage of courage with us.
‘Someone’s stolen my car!’ came Mum’s panicked voice from the other end of the phone. I listened to her alarm as she walked around the shopping centre in distress, not sharing with me where she was despite asking her.
After some time of heightened distress, there came a pause, ‘There it is!’ relief palpably heard in the change of tone of her voice.
‘You found it?’ I asked in confusion
‘Yes,’’ said Mum ‘I must have forgotten that I parked it there.’’ There was almost a chuckle in her voice and I was certain I noticed a hint of glee, ‘It was on the other side that I was looking!’ she stated matter-of-factly.
‘These things happen,’ I recall saying.
And they do. On occasion. But this wasn’t just one occasion. It was the first.
She called another time, upset that she had forgotten where the car was, again. Then there was the time she couldn’t find the hairdresser, which had not moved from where they had been for decades. Then she had to purchase the latest SatNav (pre-google maps) so she could get to my place ‘because the roads had changed’ which they had not. These were signs I did not see, until she called me one day, and asked ‘What day is it?’
‘What do you mean, Mum?’ I was genuinely puzzled
‘Do I go to work today?’ she asked me.
A pit of dread grew in my stomach.
My beautiful Mum was diagnosed with Early Onset Alzheimer’s Disease at the age of 61. Weeks after her diagnosis were a blur of shock, anger and dismay. My mum was my rock, my confidant and my friend. I felt she was robbed of her life, and I was losing her too soon. She had not retired yet nor had time to just relax and be.
Early Onset is a little more sinister than regular Alzheimer’s. It is swifter moving and takes the whole person away. It’s not just about memory loss. It starts there, then it takes other things away. The ability to feed oneself, the ability to walk, the ability to understand, the ability to talk … everything slowly erodes until there is just a body in a bed.
I was not brave. At least that is not how I would describe myself. No one could sense my internal chaos as I battled the demands of being a daughter, a mother to 4 youngsters, a wife, a sister, a teacher, and now daughter-carer. Needs were everywhere. I carried on like all was fine yet I felt like I was in the centre of a vortex in a whirlpool and I was just spinning. I was numb, and privately crying every-single-day.
I did my very first VIA Character Strengths profile whilst I was studying the Master of Applied Positive Psychology at Melbourne University back in the first cohort of 2013, and I noticed the virtue of Courage being a theme in my top Character Strengths. ’That’s weird,’ I thought, with what was going on in my life my scepticism showing itself. Yet there sat three of Courage’s strengths – Bravery, Zest and Perseverance in my top 5 strengths despite the heaviness all around.
I carried on like all was fine yet I felt like I was in the centre of a vortex in a whirlpool and I was just spinning.
One Easter, I sat for an hour with her.
‘Happy Easter Mum’, I’d say on a 5 minute-rotation, ‘I’ve baked your favourite treat and have it here to try if it’s as good as yours.’ I joked.
Nothing. It was as if I wasn’t there. She stared into the distance, not moving.
My mind wandered to a time that had past. We did a lot of baking together whilst I was growing up, and it was something she enjoyed with my 4 youngsters whenever she could. We’d bake traditional recipes from the old country whilst she’d tell stories of growing up and immigrating to Australia.
All of a sudden, she touched my hand.
‘Oh, Sundry,’ she said looking in my eyes, ‘it’s you!’’
My eyes started to well.
‘’I’ve missed you,’’ she said as though we hadn’t seen each other for ages, ‘’you know, I love you!’’
This was the last time she ever spoke, or knew who I was. I did not know it then but the dramatic slide into the disease had taken hold and she became bedridden and silent for the next 5 years before she passed away.
We did a lot of baking together whilst I was growing up, and it was something she enjoyed with my 4 youngsters whenever she could.
I think I had not been properly introduced to Courage. I had this understanding that courage was big and bold. I thought it roared. But I now know that courage is vulnerable and comes from showing up through difficulty and pain. It’s not the absence of fear because I will tell you I had that in spades! It is about going on when you don’t have the strength, and it’s the little voice inside you that tells you to front up again tomorrow, despite knowing it’s not pretty, nor easy.
I never saw myself as courageous but we hadn’t been introduced properly then.
Sandra, thank you so much for sharing your story with us. I feel so honoured by your doing so, and I am sure I am speaking on behalf of our readers too. You demonstrated so much courage Sandra; I am holding a tension between being sad and also, so inspired and warmed by your courage.
If you would like to connect with Sandra, you can do so here.
Thank you again,
@CourageChick
Leading with courage 