"I Get Up and Keep Going"

I spent my lunch hour yesterday afternoon running errands. After leaving a local pharmacy where I bought stuff for Simba the cat, I walked down the sidewalk to return to the car and back to work. Approaching from the opposite direction were two women who appeared to be an elderly mother with her middle-aged daughter. The mother limped along, left hand locked in her daughter’s right arm. I glanced past them without looking at them, the way you do when among strangers, when I noticed they had stopped in the middle of the sidewalk. The older woman was leaning heavily against the younger, who staggered but kept her ground, gripping the older woman’s hand while speaking quietly to her. The older woman struggled to regain her balance, swaying back and forth and waving her free arm as if fighting an unseen force. She looked like she was about to faint and pushed into the younger woman, who did not clutch her mother in terror (like I would have done) but stood tall and straight and then slowly, gently, let the flailing body of the older woman slide down her right leg to slump onto the concrete.

I quickened my pace toward them, pulling out my cell phone to call 911 but there was something odd about the relaxed demeanor of both women that made me hesitate. They were both watching me as I approached. The older woman was conscious.

They were smiling at me.

I walked up, cell phone in hand and asked: “Can I help?”

“Oh no,” the older woman laughed. This happens to me all the time. Sometimes I don’t feel well and I have to sit down until I feel okay again.” She beamed up at her daughter and then me. “When I feel better, I get up and keep going.”

A moment later, she glanced up at her daughter, signaling she was ready to rise. Both women giggled again, not in embarrassment but in camaraderie. The younger one thanked me for my offer to help, then leaned over and hauled her mother up by the seat of her pants, the way you would pull a child out of the mud. The mother lurched to her feet and the two women locked arms again, waved goodbye and continued on their way.

The scene has played itself out over and over in my mind. Why wasn’t the older woman in a wheelchair? Why were they walking in a public place where they could easily be knocked over and where the mother could hit her head? Maybe she should be wearing a helmet. On the other hand, it was obvious they knew what they were doing. The daughter knew how to ground herself against the flailing weight of her mother to guide her descent. But what astonished me the most was their happiness to be outside and walking on an April afternoon, despite the older woman’s malady, so they could enjoy the simple act of walking down the sidewalk and shopping, like mothers and daughters do.

Life Lesson from a Shelter Dog

Happy Easter to all who celebrate! Ken and I went to an afternoon dinner at a friend's house but there was enough time this morning for my weekly outing with Bailey, a nine year-old Collie/Husky/Akita/& I think a dash of Chow mix. Since she has been at the RBARI shelter since November, it is important to get her out in the world as often as possible. Many of my fellow volunteers bring "their" dogs home, sometimes all weekend or for an all day hike and a swim or a winter snowshoe outing. Our aging cats would not tolerate a dog, so Bailey and I roam the trails of nearby parks instead.

We have been doing this every weekend for three months and I see a big difference in her behavior. This dog was not well socialized before being surrendered to the shelter. She can be fearful and occasionally aggressive with other dogs. I am surprised at what she spooks at: a stick across the path in the woods, parked trucks, men in general and a couple of weeks ago, she was shocked at the little wavelets on a lake. As we walk the trails, there are plenty of other people with their dogs, some on leash (yay) and some not (boo) but it gives us a chance to practice being in polite society. I try to distract her by keeping her attention on ME by using lots of turns, sit commands, treats, reverse walking, anything to keep from looking, and lunging, at other dogs. The saying, "You can't teach an old dog new tricks" does not apply to Bailey. She is getting it!

While we walked, I was doing my usual mental self torture routine about finances, work, home, repairs (you know the drill) and the coulda-shoulda-woulda list of past decisions, which is a bad habit I cooked up awhile ago. Suddenly, I thought of a question my sister asked me yesterday: What would it feel like to have the questions answered? Not where would you live or what you would be doing or who would you be doing it with, just...what would it feel like?

Don't you love this question? It is simple, peaceful, grounding. And I suddenly realized, when I angst and fret, I have been turning to that question and it feels like God is doing with me what I do with Bailey: Get my attention, reverse, sit still, walk over here, stop, sit again, LOOK AT ME...and not the unanswerable questions unleashing themselves whenever I am alone.
 
As much as Bailey enjoys jumping into my station wagon every weekend to head for the hills and romp in the woods and snack on hot dog treats, I am clear about who is benefiting from our association more. 

Thanks, Bailey.

 And thank you, CC....