SuperHeroine: Dorothy Shephard
By Norah Wilson

My pick for SuperHeroine of the month is Dorothy Shephard of Saint John, New Brunswick (Canada). Some SuperHeroines humble us with their service to humanity or inspire us with their dedication to an unimpeachable cause. But when I thought about who my personal SuperHeroines are, Dorothy sprang to mind, both for her strength and for the way she brings light and warmth into the lives of everyone she touches. To me, this gift seems even more remarkable considering some of the challenges she has faced and continues to face.

I met Dorothy in 1999 when she joined the Romance Writers of America chapter in Moncton, New Brunswick. Like everyone else, I gravitated to her cheerful, energetic presence. Over the ensuing years, despite living in different cities, I have come to know and appreciate Dorothy as an extraordinary woman.

Dorothy grew up in the port city of Saint John, where her father, when his health permitted, supported his family of seven by working as a stevedore. Dorothy recalls some very lean years. Like her siblings, she assumed responsibilities early in life to help out. Despite holding down jobs through junior high and high school, she graduated with honors. I was not surprised to learn that she majored in Foods and Child Care. "My sign is Cancer," Dorothy jokes. "I discovered early in life that taking care of people was easy for me."

Dorothy met Art Shephard when she was 15 and married him at 18. She got pregnant for the first time four years into the marriage but miscarried at 13 weeks. Nothing if not resilient, she rebounded quickly, becoming pregnant again later the same year. James, a healthy, gorgeous boy, arrived in April 1986, and immediately became the centre of Art and Dorothy's life. The first inkling they had that something might be wrong came during James's fifth month, when his smiling decreased. Then one night, they couldn't get him to stop crying. The next days were a frightening blur of doctors and tests. When a pediatric neurologist was called in, Dorothy knew it must be serious. It was. James had leukodystrophy, a rare, hereditary, terminal condition.

"Telling Art was probably the hardest thing I've ever had to do," Dorothy says. "There is nothing I can think of that makes an adult feel more useless than knowing their child is sick and not being able to do anything about it. He was devastated, we both were."

James died at the age of 11 months.

How did she survive it? Through the support of a large and loving family, who grieved with her, and by being prepared. Before James's death, a friend had given her a book (The Bereaved Parent) that gave her some valuable tools and insights. "To be honest, I managed very well. In fact, many people told me later how they were comforted by me instead of the other way around. As hard as this experience was, I have to say that I feel so blessed that we had James for the time we did. I wouldn't take away that for anything in the world. Not a day goes by that I don't think of him. He made me a better person and for the short time that he was with us, managed to have an impact on everyone we knew."

Whenever Dorothy and I talk about this, I always marvel at her personal strength, not just to have survived such a grievous loss, but to have survived with her optimism and enthusiasm for life intact. I seriously doubt I could have found that kind of strength. Indeed, a recent Danish study showed that losing a child raises an individual's risk of serious mental crisis requiring hospitalization by 67 percent, with the risk being highest in the first year, but taking a full five years to subside.

Dorothy and Art went on to put their names on a waiting list to adopt a child. After a number of years passed, they got the call. Unfortunately, the timing was wrong. In 1995, they had just purchased a business - a struggling paint franchise - an undertaking that required all their available time, money and energy to turn around. Heartbreaking as it was, they knew the best thing they could do for that child was to disqualify themselves.

Dorothy and Art did indeed turn their new business around, doubling sales over a scant six years. The recipe for their success? Savvy advertising doesn't hurt (who can resist a Dorothy's in a mood! sale?), but it really comes down to fantastic customer service. Once you wander into Dorothy's sphere, you'll want to come back again and again. Her enthusiasm and energy are infectious, and customers quickly begin to feel like family. As I've told Dorothy, I think it's poetic that her job is literally bringing color into people's lives. She's been doing it figuratively for years.

As I intimated earlier, Dorothy has ongoing challenges. In 1999, she was involved in a car accident in which she sustained a whiplash injury. After many months of therapy, her condition seemed to be worsening rather than improving. Further investigation yielded bad news. She had syringomyelia, a disorder in which a cyst forms within the spinal cord, a condition that was probably triggered by the whiplash trauma. The cyst (or syrinx) expands and elongates over time, compressing the spinal cord, leading to progressive weakness in the arms and legs, loss of hand sensation, and chronic, severe pain. Dorothy's physicians did not feel she was a surgical candidate (at least at the time of diagnosis), but she has been holding her ground fiercely through medical management and sheer determination.

The syringomyelia may have slowed her down a little (she has had to expand her staff since she can't carry the heavy paint cans, and she can't sit for long commutes), but it hasn't dimmed her enthusiasm or energy. Doing a book signing in Saint John and need a press contact there? Dorothy is a one-woman street team. Feeling discouraged? Dorothy will lift your spirits. Don't know how to get on top of a problem? Dorothy will be there to help brainstorm solutions. Having a get-together? Dorothy will bring sunshine into the room, and if you're very lucky, a batch of her double delight lemon cookies.

Sound like someone you'd love to be able to call on with a tough problem? Well, the pediatric neurologist who'd treated Dorothy's son thought so, too. Having deeply admired the way she handled James's illness and death, he called on her when he encountered another couple from a nearby community whose daughter had been diagnosed with Tay-Sachs disease. The child, who was then 18 months old, was not expected to live past four. The support system for the young parents, who also had another child, was meager. Dorothy and Art stepped into the breach. But four months into the friendship, the child's father was killed in an auto accident, leaving his wife widowed with a 3-year-old and a terminally ill 22-month-old. The young mother, who didn't even know how to balance a checkbook, was overwhelmed. Dorothy and Art stepped up again, co-signing for a loan so she could buy a car and get her driver's license, which afforded her some independence and enabled her to make the frequent commute to the hospital. When the child died, Dorothy and Art convinced the mother to enroll in community college where she finished a business course. She has since remarried, and has three more boys in her life.

Dorothy also has been active with a couple of beloved causes. She was involved with Scouts Canada for 12 years and with the IODE (the Imperial Order of the Daughters of the Empire, a women's charitable organization devoted to improving the quality of life for children, youth and those in need through educational, service and citizenship programs) for 10 years. She advocates for family and friends when occasion demands, navigating bureaucracies and cutting through red tape like a professional lobbyist. "I don't seek out causes," Dorothy says. "They just seem to find me."

Dorothy and Art celebrated their 25th anniversary this past May.

In closing, I'm sure many of you readers have a "Dorothy" in your life, an industrious soul who spreads optimism effortlessly and leads by example. Let today be the day you pause and honor her.


Norah Wilson works for a provincial health care association by day and writes paranormal/romantic suspense by night. You can visit her at http://personal.nbnet.nb.ca/wilson/
 

To read last month's SuperHeroine article, click here

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