11.22.63 is a one-season, eight-episode miniseries that first appeared on Hulu in 2016. It’s based on a Stephen King novel that explores the idea of someone going back in time to stop the assassination of John F. Kennedy. I thought it was excellent; I enjoy history and find time travel mind-bending.
The show has several twists and carries the theme that trying to change history has consequences, with forces constantly working to preserve it. That wasn’t surprising, as other time-travel works have similar plots.
What I found enlightening was the final scene. I won’t spoil it, but I want to share a piece from the secondary protagonist, Sadie Dunhill. Early in adulthood, Sadie’s life changed when her husband died in an automobile crash. She persevered and built a lifelong career as a librarian, earning recognition as Texas’ Woman of the Year.
In her acceptance speech (*), she read this poem for those dealing with life’s troubles:
“We did not ask for this room or this music. We were invited in. Therefore, because the dark surrounds us, let us turn our faces to the light. Let us endure hardship to be grateful for plenty. We have been given pain to be astounded by joy. We have been given life to deny death. We did not ask for this room or this music. But because we are here, let us dance.”
I immediately thought of how this describes living with diabetes.
Living with diabetes often feels like being thrust into a room we didn’t choose, forced to learn a dance we never intended to perform. We didn’t ask for the finger sticks, the carb counting, the tech breakdowns, the judgments, or the daily grind.
But as the poem suggests, the presence of the ‘dark’ – the hardship and the pain – only makes the ‘light’ of our victories even brighter. We endure the difficult days so that we can be astounded by the joy of life. We are here. Despite the challenges, we choose to dance. With diabetes.
(*) Excerpted from the 11.22.63 miniseries finale, written by Stephen King and Bridget Carpenter
