The Celebrated Jumping Frogs of Hartford County

I love this bracelet. It’s a simple silver ring to which I had a jeweler attach a frog charm. The frog is now a soldered memory of when I was disqualified from the Frog Jumping Contest many years ago at the Mark Twain House in Hartford. It still makes me laugh.

I was standing on line to register for the race when I handed over my contestant (in a grass-lined shoe box). As he removed the cover, the official yelled out “this isn’t a frog.” Like that moment in Jaws when Dreyfus, in his accusing tone, barks “This was no boat accident.” He couldn’t hide his contempt for those who didn’t know any better. I was disgraced.

I grew up on Long Island surrounded by cement and small patches of green grass. How was I suppose to know I had a toad not a frog? They looked the same to me. What’s the big deal anyway? The people on line behind me were all aghast. Really? This is so Connecticut, I thought. “Lighten up, people. Twain would’ve been amused, I’m sure of it.”

It was then that I got the “I knew this was a waste of my time” look from my teenage son. I was bombing out on all fronts. It was the kind of moment that makes you doubt yourself and ask, “how could I miss this?” or “why can’t I be normal like other people?” It was a flash of wanting to know what others knew or to act like they acted — appropriate and not blowing it, publicly.

But I got over it, thank God. Wanting to be like others is the kiss of death. Being like others kills the spirit. You have to be you otherwise you’re not living your life, you’re living theirs. What’s the point of that? Months of my chemo experience confirmed this for me. Chemo had nothing to do with anyone else. The experience was mine alone.

There were many times when I woke up in the middle of the night unable to fall back to sleep so I read. At one point I took on the challenge of Mark Twain’s Innocents Abroad. The 500 page travel epic where Twain was relentlessly Twain no matter who he met or where he went. His language took me out of my time. His quirky observations made me laugh out loud.

I’m coming out the other side now, getting stronger very day and walking off the neuropathy. In fact, just today I walked a mile in my own shoes! (Something I couldn’t even imagine a few months ago.) It always helps to surround ourselves with things that lift our spirit and remind us of how powerful we really are. That’s what this bracelet does for me. It reminds me of Twain’s adventures and now, my own. Hey, I’m not saying I’m feeling invincible, but… kinda.

Pat McGrath