I heard her before I saw her. The greeting came from the back of the store. I scanned through the Wyoming t-shirts and could see nothing but cowboys. “Here I am,” she said. I followed the voice below the racks this time, and I saw her — the tiniest woman, her smile actually bigger than her shoulders. I could see she was still tethered to the oxygen tank at the back of the store, but that was not going to stop her. She seemed genuinely delighted that we were there. She started with the usual questions, what brings you to town, where are you from… After we said France, the gates were opened! She had been to France, even to our area. She and her husband had taken their children. She was so proud that – as it should be! Before she told us she was 90, she made sure of the important things — like she was educated, she loved learning, she was still curious, and she loved to read. I said I loved to read as well, and she was off to the back room again to get her latest book — a hard cover, at least three pounds, about Vikings. She handed it to me, and told me I just had to read it! After taking a picture for a reminder, I asked if I should bring the book back to her office. “Oh no, she said, I may be 90, but I’m healthy — we were all looking at the green tube that connected her to the back room… “Oh, I shrunk so much that my esophagus and stomach are in my lungs, but I’m still strong. I love life.” She told us how she follows the news. Follows politics. Wants to know what is happening in the world. I couldn’t stop smiling at her — this 4’ 10” Viking amid the cowboy t-shirts.

It’s funny what we romanticize. Who we call our heroes. Who we think of as strong and brave. It is so easy to get lost in the cowboys of it all, when the real people worthy of our admiration our walking right beside us, in the racks. I mention it only so you will look around. Or maybe so you will brave the tether and let others see you.

She marveled at how tall I was, but I knew that she was the real Viking. I told her what a pleasure it had been to speak with her. Her story may not make the brochures. Maybe there is more to see in Cheyenne, but certainly there is nothing better! She will not be tethered. I carry her story with me.