Movement Is Memorable When It’s Lost
Cartoon life is not all fun and games. Especially, if you have an unfair advantage, or, are more able than your cartoon partner.
Obviously, I can’t shovel snow. In fact, I can’t even walk in snow. So, by default, shoveling and doing other household chores is done by my partner. Even on days when she feels lousy, her chores still get done.
I doubt I’ll ever get accustomed to being taken care of; it’s an odd feeling. On the one hand, I feel relieved. Gone are the days of pushing myself beyond what is good for me. And yet, on the other hand, I feel guilty and downright spoiled.
Now, I’ll be perfectly honest, I never could shovel snow. I did, however, barrel my way through deep snow banks walking with a cane. And, I was very skilled at driving in snow. All this changed once a walker and scooter became permanent mobility fixtures.
Safety, of course, is the first priority and somewhere along the way, I swallowed the pill of common sense. It has a bitter taste and doesn’t go down easy, but life now has much less risk.
Yet, at some point, everyone must wrestle with decline. Fighting against slowing down only prolongs misery, but trust me – it is a losing battle.
Adjustment is predicted by aging bodies; my turn happened to come early.
Our outer and inner selves are knocked out of sync when change arrives. The real work is getting the mind and body back on the same page.
Today, on facebook, I saw a photo of someone standing on a beach and I could recall how sand felt on my feet and the sensation of wiggling my toes. Movement is memorable when it’s lost and my memory of movement is razor sharp.
It seems like it was just yesterday when I’d hop out of bed to get ready for work. Or, push around furniture and paint walls. Geez, those were the days. My partner has never known this worker-bee side of me.
It’s as if a built-in video player lives in my mind and automatically replays without my request. Yet, I love to watch these old movies. In fact, I savor them.
We all have a video memory, it helps us to reminisce about the good old days. A soft yearning surfaces for what is lost, and this certainly applies to loved ones, now resting in peace.
Initially, feelings of loss lean heavily on the side of sadness and that’s okay. But letting go of “what was” is necessary in order to move forward.
Living well depends on your ability to appreciate all of who you are, today.
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