A New Normal

My husband and I have vacationed over the years in short jaunts to nearby states. Living in the northeast, there is a bounty of mountains and foliage, seaside and ocean. Also there are the “happen- ons” of special exhibits, museums and shops. Perhaps the most enjoyable moment is when we take the time to enjoy a long walk hand-in-hand. Very romantic. Taking those walks we often become absorbed in deep conversations. Very enlightening. But once the daylight dims, we’re starved. It’s time to seek out somewhere to have supper.

We prefer simple fare in places favored by the town’s folk. They are an excellent source for “good eats,” suggesting where you can order tasty food that can jolt your taste buds. Once we finish our dinner, we return to our lodging to get a good rest for the next day.

But one particular vacation was different.

A lovely mountain sat right outside the rear door of our row-type cabin. It was a marvelous Alice in Wonderland moment as the hinges swung open . . . to a most extraordinary foliage view. My eyes feasted on the artistic contour of the huge mountain, the lavish composition of tree and brush blazing in red and orange. And before me was a small pond filled with tall orange-tinted grass, water lilies and swans drifting to the side. Where I stood, I noticed a whitewashed swing fashioned for two. Trees nearby were also awash in sparkling sunshine with a delicate wind dancing upon every leaf. The scene was better than postcard perfect.

I absorbed every second of it, alive to the warmth on my forehead and the tickle of breeze on my cheek. The flutter of a flock turned my head as graceful feathers winged the sky. Brilliant Crayola box color swirled about. Closing my eyes, I took a deep breath full of freshness that prompted full clarity. Gratitude tugged heard at my heart, a swelling of appreciation in my chest. I was so very thankful.

You see, my life before this vacation had become the perfect storm. It just happened…like dominoes tumbling one after the other. There was uncertainty as to why this momentum gave way. One day I was bursting with energy and wellness. The next day my bones began to crumple and fold. Stooped over, startling twinges struck in my lower back with a mind all their own. Jutting edges of furniture became close friends as my hands latched on to them like a mountain climber maneuvers upward on every rock. But I was just trying to navigate my living room.

Looking at me with sad eyes, my son urged me on, “Stand up straight Mom. You’ll be alright.” With a crooked grin, I tried to heave-ho onto my feet, but my body wouldn’t budge. My body ruled. Connections between calf and thigh and buttocks, to my spinal column all went awry. Muscles, bones and nerves were caught in a throbbing web. The result was pain and more pain. Movement of any kind would slap back like a taunt elastic band. So everything slowed. I had to move gingerly or stay put in a sturdy rocking recliner.

My husband was perplexed. I was totally derailed. What to do?

The high point on a number of days was a doctor visit. Accompanied by my husband, notebook in hand, I fired off questions and took copious notes. Then came the tests, treatments, shots, and suggested medication. This went on for months lasting from the drifting snowflake, through the Spring fragrances, the haze of damp air into the falling leaves. There were days touched with hope, but there were also moments where uncertainty tipped into gloom.

I waited. I prayed. I waited some more. I wanted to be better, be myself again. Right now. Then I realized there were folks who experienced much worse for even longer. Humbled by my attitude, I realized that “entitlement rationale” was like chasing after a cloud. Yes, life had become a huge challenge. But I had to embrace an upbeat attitude of what could be done. And pray a little more—not just for myself, but for others as well.

Sunrise to sunset flowed into one another presenting the need for endurance and prompted a novel response. The past was gone. Would today’s gains leading to an improved tomorrow? This would become my new normal. What it was, I didn’t know. But what I did know was that I was changing . . . becoming more patient and introspective. I was embracing each day’s teachable moments and becoming a sensible student.

Then one day the pain eased up and I stood perfectly straight.

***

Alongside that lovely Vermont pond, I settled into the decorative swing for two. As I readied to move it, my husband plopped in close to me. He chuckled, his eyes full of sparkle and hope. Mine met his, playful and expectant. Holding his hand tight we moved the swing, laughing and joking as we pushed harder and harder into the next chapter of our new life.

. . . and that’s how I live it.