WordSisters

Author: cmkraack

  • Cracking the Ice

    Cracking the lacy edge of iced snow with the heel of a boot or shoe is a simple springtime ritual that reminds me of childhood—my own, my children’s, my granddaughter’s. The sun has announced its return to longer days of warming concrete, pavement, earth. There will be lots of melting and all the snow that falls after that these melting days will have a shorter life.

    This morning I watched a small red squirrel struggling for traction on ice under a parked car and felt for its lack of progress. And I laughed, although staying upright while carrying groceries to the back door or garbage out to the trash cans is still a challenge. The universal human experiences of twisting an ankle, ripping pants or landing too hard on the tailbone while innocently walking from one spot to another, can happen in March. My most painful fall of the 2019 – 2020 winter season happened late in March. While untangling the dog’s leash after eleven at night my feet slipped out as I tilted sideways. The wet dog and soaking pjs were immediately fixed. A variety of body aches took longer to go away.

    Sharp claws, sturdy boots, favorite sneakers, clamp on treads don’t guarantee smooth moving on ice. Spring melt produces the fun cracking the edge of snow, but the sneaky clear path across a sidewalk might be wet, or might smack your back end down in seconds. It is a time of year that jetpacks would be helpful. Even if you are deeply isolated from COVID with groceries delivered and others doing your errands, at some point the garbage can has to dragged curbside. As long as the temps stay low and shade covers your steps, ice can take you down.

    For those suffering from what the pandemic brings, at least a moderate winter didn’t add more suffering. Eventually we will be able to stand in our yards, alleys, boulevards and talk to others. We’ll be able to minimize the isolation and exchange stories. In the meantime, there are people out here willing to lend a hand, even if it means a walk across spring ice. Give someone a call. 

  • Walking to Nowhere

    My father walked forty-five minutes a day. Whatever the weather, whatever kind of workday he had had, he headed out to do his exercise. Quintuple bypass surgery in the days when your chest was sawed open, scared him into obeying his doctor’s instructions. Walk or wake up one more time with tubes coming out of unexpected parts of your body. 

    He didn’t have walking shoes, special clothes, a pedometer, sunscreen, tunes playing in his ears. Just good leather shoes, a hat, and a watch to keep him honest. He didn’t drive anywhere to change up the scenery. He just walked. For decades.

    After a career of office work that meant little time on my feet and lots on my seat, I’ve joined the crowds walking daily to nowhere. I put some time in on asphalt streets and concrete walkways and some on a simple treadmill. I don’t know if special shoes are any better than his thick soled leather tie models. An athletic tracker on my wrist provides feedback that is nice about my heartbeat and steps. Podcasts fill my mind while I wander about. 

    This is how many people in non-physical jobs today fight weight gain, arthritis, general aches, aging. It’s what we substitute for not using our bodies the way they are meant to be used. We walk around neighborhoods, on lake or park pathways, with our dog, maybe with another person. We feel good about piling up our miles and wearing down our shoes.

    I’m behind for the day and kind of crabby about putting aside writing projects with due dates in order to do my steps. Curse the pandemic, I miss playing with my granddaughter, machines at the gym, sweating through a dance class and swimming. On the other hand, I’m alive and walking my way to vaccine and herd immunity and the opportunities to get back into an active community. Thanks for the lesson on resiliency, Dad.

  • January 6, 2021

    The day after the invasion of our Capitol our almost seven-year-old granddaughter said to our daughter: “So those people will be arrested, right? And then they will go to jail? Because that is dangerous. They could make the police sick and then who would stop people from stealing and other bad things? And what if Congress gets scared so they can’t make rules anymore?”

    Washington, D.C. has a magnetic pull. My tradition is to walk to the White House every visit and take pictures. Our daughter lived there when she clerked for the United States Tax Court which meant visiting her and exploring her favorite places. We did the Supreme Court tour one time with her providing insights. In 2019 I spent a day sitting in the House of Representatives and the Senate galleries as well as touring the Capitol with a member of Senator Amy Klobuchar’s staff. Meeting people in the offices of our representative and senator then watching them at work at the Capitol deepened my sense of what the democratic process means.

    I think we waste trips to Washington, DC on grade school kids. Every citizen of voting age should be required at least once to visit the places where our government does it work. To go through security, read placards, sit in those galleries, hear the history of each branch. Let’s make it a compulsory requirement that anyone who votes must demonstrate that they have studied the processes that keep this nation a democracy. Not as a high school student, but at an age years after their formal education is complete. Call it a citizenship refresher.  

    Bless my daughter, and every parent or person responsible for children and young people, as they provide information and assurances during these times. If it has not been difficult to give kids a sense of safety while walking the talk about mask wearing and social distancing, now there is this to explain. And to fix.