Saturday, November 28, 2015

At the end of the day

The big excitement of Thanksgiving was the arrival of my parents from Conway, South Carolina. Here we are sneaking a moment in Nuala's Garden, out back:
No Black Friday anything. We all had better things to do.

Such as sleep. Which the three of us often did, snoozing in the afternoon.

And having Dad take Mom to the front yard, where today... we have roses!
And some very interesting chats. Dad clearly is resplendent with what the Three Treasures herbalists would call "Radiant Health," but Mom ain't doing so good.

She doesn't walk as well as she used to; she says her best "walking" is pushing the shopping cart in the market, which she likes because the cart assists her. Guy in Wheelchair, that'd be me, knows all about walking issues and the evanescence of mobility; wife and I both suggested a Translator, as the device is often called, a wheeled walker that can also be a transport chair.

Mom has been especially having difficulties with not being able to help people as she once did. She was a "circulating nurse" in her earlier years, a primary-school teacher for what, 40 years? And he life was really engaged with just plain helping people.

And now, she is the one who needs to be helped. Which for her, is completely foreign territory.

Boy, do I know how bad that feels. I was an organist since the age of 13, a high-school teacher for gobs of years, a percussionist and singer and writer of music. Here I am playing the largest organ installed in a church in the world.
But not any more. I won't say "never again," but certainly... Not today. I can't even get onto the console, much less sit at it without falling off or even operate the instrument.

Mom's "today I can't" comes from age, mostly. She's 83, I think. Here's her 30-years-younger son, in pretty much the same "not today" condition.

We had a good talk, a very good talk, plenty of snoozing while she sat in the chair next to me snoozing in the bed. I showed her some Steven Universe that makes me happy,  didn't even take a lot of effort to explain what Gems and fusion were. (My great joy in this cartoon is not the details of what fusion is/does but in the sweetness of Steven for Connie, and Greg and Rose falling in love. Who fuses with who is not that important, it's just a vehicle for self-discovery. Like the saga of Pearl and Sardonyx... but that's a long story._

For both of us, and I would offer that all of us in the MS Club, the challenge is really a change of consciousness. We are each called to do... well, something, and what that something is. is individual for each of us. I'm still working on what I'm being called upon to do; one of Mom's tasks is not to give to others, but to give in the act of receiving. To be one who is helped, not to do all the helping.

The challenge we each face is our very special challenge. MS is just a part of it, for us MSers, but there's plenty more to dig through.

But at the end of the day, as Ram Dass often writes...

We're just walking each other home.

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