Thursday, March 17, 2005
APRIL FOOLS DAY....1989
April came in on a Saturday and Bear had been worrying about the gutters being plugged up. He had watched rain pour over the edge in a few places before it got to the down spout so he was trying to figure a way to get it done. When he lost his leg one of the few things he never conquered was climbing a ladder high enough to get on the roof….which, of course still would not be conducive to eliminating the problem. For some time, I had been able to rise to the occasion but the last couple of times had been a little scary.
I could get up the ladder with no problem and I could swing one leg onto the roof. The problem was getting the rest of my body to follow. I would freeze in that position and just couldn’t go any further…….my mind fighting with my body. The last time, I crawled back down the ladder and told Bear I just couldn’t do it anymore. I felt whipped. I was beginning to see that I was not only losing some of my physical prowess but also losing some “will.” I had to accept the fact that my body was smarter than my desire to keep on doing the things I’d always done. You can only whip a dead horse so long before you realize you need another form of transportation.
Now if you aren’t an Andersen, I’m sure that comes easier. For an Andersen to admit defeat, is not possible. My dad dug ditches until he coughed up blood, and he had brothers and a mother and father who would go down in flames before they’d ever bail out. It was stubbornness magnified by immigrant mentality. I can’t blame my dad or my uncles….they were born into a different world than the women they married and the children they produced.
Since I was one notch down the line I still had a wide bit of stubborn attitude to deal with…….the last time I attempted getting on the roof finally hit home. I was no longer able to do everything that needed doing………or that I “thought” had to be done. Enter….the solution. It had two younger legs, a head that still thought her body could take “orders” and a willingness to alleviate a problem for Bear and me. Miss Becky looked the situation over, went up the ladder, swung her leg onto the roof and her body followed.
She stood high above us and just looking at her gave me shivers. My mind kept seeing a body catapulting into a 200-foot ravine. Of course I had to be hallucinating but I couldn’t get the scene out of my head. What was happening to me? Becky explained it in short terms….. “You wised up, mom. How long did you think you could play Tarzan without falling? How many women do you know who are your age and still climbing up on the roof?” Now I understood totally. It was the “age” thing. I never knew it happened overnight…..or did it? Was there still more to learn and experience? Being down the road from this day and year by a long ways….I can honestly say……there’s a lot more to growing old with grace. A lot more.
Why do I take up a whole blog with one day? Because of the lesson learned. I think on that day I began to look at my body differently. It was no longer a battering ram or a willing victim to dictation coming from the “master switch”……no longer would go hours on end without rest, being shamed into finishing jobs that were not necessary, being a garbage bucket for foods it didn’t want and couldn’t put into energy……..and worst of all, it was tired of my mouth getting “it,” (my body) into all kinds of irrational projects just because my mouth never wanted to use that all powerful word…….. “NO.”
I became a realistic friend to my body.
It is not a slave, not a toy, not a machine. It is material made by God for His use and my housing until He gives me a better one. In the meantime I am to respect it, take care of it and use it for it’s intended purpose. The dictator became the friend my body always wanted……thankfully.
Until tomorrow,
Essentially Esther
I could get up the ladder with no problem and I could swing one leg onto the roof. The problem was getting the rest of my body to follow. I would freeze in that position and just couldn’t go any further…….my mind fighting with my body. The last time, I crawled back down the ladder and told Bear I just couldn’t do it anymore. I felt whipped. I was beginning to see that I was not only losing some of my physical prowess but also losing some “will.” I had to accept the fact that my body was smarter than my desire to keep on doing the things I’d always done. You can only whip a dead horse so long before you realize you need another form of transportation.
Now if you aren’t an Andersen, I’m sure that comes easier. For an Andersen to admit defeat, is not possible. My dad dug ditches until he coughed up blood, and he had brothers and a mother and father who would go down in flames before they’d ever bail out. It was stubbornness magnified by immigrant mentality. I can’t blame my dad or my uncles….they were born into a different world than the women they married and the children they produced.
Since I was one notch down the line I still had a wide bit of stubborn attitude to deal with…….the last time I attempted getting on the roof finally hit home. I was no longer able to do everything that needed doing………or that I “thought” had to be done. Enter….the solution. It had two younger legs, a head that still thought her body could take “orders” and a willingness to alleviate a problem for Bear and me. Miss Becky looked the situation over, went up the ladder, swung her leg onto the roof and her body followed.
She stood high above us and just looking at her gave me shivers. My mind kept seeing a body catapulting into a 200-foot ravine. Of course I had to be hallucinating but I couldn’t get the scene out of my head. What was happening to me? Becky explained it in short terms….. “You wised up, mom. How long did you think you could play Tarzan without falling? How many women do you know who are your age and still climbing up on the roof?” Now I understood totally. It was the “age” thing. I never knew it happened overnight…..or did it? Was there still more to learn and experience? Being down the road from this day and year by a long ways….I can honestly say……there’s a lot more to growing old with grace. A lot more.
Why do I take up a whole blog with one day? Because of the lesson learned. I think on that day I began to look at my body differently. It was no longer a battering ram or a willing victim to dictation coming from the “master switch”……no longer would go hours on end without rest, being shamed into finishing jobs that were not necessary, being a garbage bucket for foods it didn’t want and couldn’t put into energy……..and worst of all, it was tired of my mouth getting “it,” (my body) into all kinds of irrational projects just because my mouth never wanted to use that all powerful word…….. “NO.”
I became a realistic friend to my body.
It is not a slave, not a toy, not a machine. It is material made by God for His use and my housing until He gives me a better one. In the meantime I am to respect it, take care of it and use it for it’s intended purpose. The dictator became the friend my body always wanted……thankfully.
Until tomorrow,
Essentially Esther
