Why a Firefly?

Stephen RobinsonWhy a FireflyStephen RobinsonWhy a FireflyStephen RobinsonWhy a Firefly

My wife, Kathleen, created firefly moments. She had a knack for casually falling into conversation out of nowhere with complete strangers. One moment, we’d be engaged in a conversation on the corner, waiting for the light to change. Then, in mid-sentence, she would turn her attention to some random person who didn’t realize they needed her touch. From there, anything could happen. I’d seen complete strangers, soon after meeting her, bury their heads in the nape of her neck, crying. I saw tough New Yorkers (some whose bearing caused me alarm) reveal a secret whose repression had been gnawing at them for years. I saw men fall in love with her in an instant, mistaking her luminescence for a beacon of carnal interest.

However they happened, these interactions occurred constantly, infuriating and confusing me. Part of my annoyance came from concern for Kathleen’s safety. After all, we were living in New York City, a place where you don’t just waltz uninvited into the personal lives of strangers. If you did, you were likely to hear a series of acid-tongued invectives that could peel the enamel off your teeth. But surprisingly, I never heard anyone throw a verbal Molotov cocktail back in Kathleen’s direction. In fact, these strangers almost always left these interactions with gratitude and as changed people.

Kathleen had this unusual ability – an uncanny ability, really – to create a light that enchanted those in her presence and added positive energy to the world around her. This light came from somewhere inside her, and she projected it for all to see, like a firefly. But unlike the flashings of the insect version, Kathleen brought light 24 hours a day. And for her, potential firefly moments were everywhere. Kathleen saw moments for kindness where the rest of us saw annoyances. She entered those moments and made the world just a little bit better.

Firefly Moment that brief period of time when there is a flash of understanding, love or beauty and the world suddenly becomes enchanted (like the instant a firefly lights the summer evening).

After Kathleen’s passing, the firefly became Victoria and my private symbol for her. It reminds us that we must try to bring light into the lives of those around us every day. Perhaps that is why Victoria chose to become a pediatric intensive care doctor. It is part of the reason I have chosen my career path and now, to stand up this website.