As late as January last year, just after I celebrated another birthday, five years after I started this blog, I still felt as sprightly as a sixty-five year old! My goals remained the same; my hopes and attitudes intact! Hubby and I could make this walk (Port Orford's Heads, close to Coast Guard Hill) a walk we took many times, at times walking from my house four miles away and all uphill!
But our lives took a major turn after last July. We lost a son and soon my husband's health took a major dive. He is recuperating slowly from a couple of operations; his gait is still good, but his strength has not returned to how it was before.
Now, we walk around our neighborhood, a mile or so, on even terrain. We rest often, pick and eat wild blackberries, admire birds and other sights. Everything about last year is still with us, palpable, raw. He feels pain in his hips and legs, and those pains are nothing compared to the pain we swim in as we delve into the memories of Brian and how tragic his loss has been for anyone who knew him.
We have changed in fundamental ways.
Just last January we were planning a cruise to the East. Now, we are happy to take our daily
walks, simple rituals of thankfulness and mindedness.
Thoughts of tomorrows are kept simple, listing doable tasks, put out the garbage at the curb, weed the upper garden, call the kids.
A neighbor died yesterday. A sudden heart attack. A walking companion drove her to the emergency room. By all accounts, she had been healthy, active all along, except on the previous day she had complained, not feeling well, still not missing her walking routine.
These constant reminders of death are not new in this neighborhood where the average old age is 80+; where senior citizens are seen clearing brush, walking dogs, volunteering. We see people all around us make the most of their lives, visiting with friends, tending to their gardens, helping their neighbors with chores.
We made our wills for the first time this year. A simple will. We shared it with our other children.