WordSisters

Tag: wordsisters

  • Cocktail Hour

    Before all of us dispersed at the end of the evening, the leg broke loose from the fire pit bowl, toppling hot embers into the street.  It had been repaired once before using a zip tie.

    Our melting pot of a block was gathered together for no reason other than a stay-at-home order was in place for midnight.

    Lawn chairs were haphazardly set in a circular pattern at the dead end of the block in front of the No Parking Fire Lane sign.

    Jody and I had been encouraging these get-togethers for over twenty years. Many had been held in our back yard. Now others on the block often sounded the alarm for a get-together.

    Single, married, remarried, divorced, widowed, Indonesian, Hispanic, African American, white, young, old, Republican, Democrat, gay and straight mixed around the fire that I poked with my 6-foot distancing stick.

    There were those who believed in conspiracy theories, those who loved our President and blame the Chinese, and those attracted to herd immunity. There were also those who were frustrated with the President’s response and reassured by the state’s plans.

    Our entire block of eight houses was represented, in its diversity and imperfection, a potpourri of all there is in the world.

    Throughout the evening, I moved from lawn chair to lawn chair, appreciating all our differences.

    I took pride that we could come together time after time finding commonality and enjoyment in each other.

    Before he left, the oldest guy on the block would say with satisfaction, “None of us on the block have it,” meaning the COVID–19.

    I was happy to be a part of his ‘us.’ He was too. Though in all respects, he and I, are polar opposites in our religious and political views. I take delight in who he is. He’s gifted me fish he’s caught and venison from deer he has killed.

    I believe, that despite our differences, if my family did get COVID-19, he and all the others on our block would look after us. We are all part of the ‘us.’

    His wife stayed back helping me with the now broken fire pit. We doused the embers together. Before she walked down the street, she said, “We need a get-together at our house. We’ve never had people over.”

    Our imperfect block will continue to rendezvous. The broken fire pit will once again get mended. Social distance will be respected in varying degrees.

  • At The Funeral

    In January, a time before the corona virus, I sat with three friends from my writing group. Our other group member was up front, a part of the funeral party. Her mother had passed away.

    We had done this before, sat together for a funeral. Then it was one of our own group members who had passed on. This time, it wasn’t a sense of déjà vu as much as it was a strong sense of community, of being with your tribe, your writing family. These people who read and commented on your stories, knew your family and your journey through life. We’ve been together for over fifteen years.

    I had Kleenex scrunched up in my palm. Tears would come from who knows where, but they would come.

    It touched me that we were supporting our friend and supporting each other. Several of us had taken the day off from work. Being present for one another was important. Sacred circles show up for each other.

    The church was full of people of all ages and races to honor this woman of 89 who had passed away. A testament to her and the family she raised.

    My shoulder brushed my writing friend sitting next to me. I dabbed at the corner of my eye. Being at funerals often connects me to other griefs and in that moment, I keenly felt my estrangement from my siblings. My bond to my sacred circle of writing friends made me feel the distance from my siblings even more. My Kleenex became soggier. I pushed my glasses up.

    How Great Thou Art, chorused through the congregation. I imagined my feet reaching to the earth’s center.

    While in prayer, I let myself grieve the alienation from my siblings. I was doing what I believed.  I was honoring myself, my partner, my children and my beliefs. I was honoring the essence of who I am. I stayed in this revered place with the universe. Wrapped myself in love. Cloaked myself in love. I was in a blessed place in this church, in this pew, and with these people. I felt love all around me.

    While in communion with the Universe, I added a prayer, Universe, please help me find my memory stick. I had been putting blog posts on the stick and had yet to back it up. I knew that I should. Every writer knows that. The memory stick had blog posts on that I might publish after more revision. I’ve learned that the best time to write a blog post is when I have the greatest feeling. The memory stick was holding a lot of me. I had been looking for the stick for days.

    In The Garden filled the place of worship. When I raised my eyes I could see clearly. I felt liberated. The veil of sadness had lifted.

    At the podium, our writer friend was reading a story that she had written about her mother. A story that was familiar to the sacred circle. She was full of light and joy. Her gift bringing forth laughter.

    Following the recessional, we said goodbye to our friend and decided the rest of us would gather for lunch. We needed to be together a little longer before we re-entered our daily lives.

    Opening my car door, I moved pieces in the basket in the back seat that held loose items in the car. There was my memory stick. Thank you, Universe, I breathed. I am loved.

  • I Thought I Was Doing What I Was Supposed to be Doing

    “That’s the problem,” he said. I looked down at my legs. I was sitting on a physical therapy table with my legs outstretched on the tabletop. I couldn’t see what he could see. He pointed to the concave shape of my inner thigh. “Your leg has atrophied.”

    What?!? Atrophy might describe an old lady … maybe someone who’s in her late 80’s and immobile.  Not me! When I thought that I could speak without crying, I interrupted him with questions. “Is my other leg atrophied?” Yes, he said. Later that evening I would sob with Jody.

    How could that be? Exercise has been a priority for me and after getting my knees replaced, I continued to exercise at least 5 days a week, whether it be aqua pool jogging, biking, or Pilates reformer. During my workday I piled on steps from walking the plant floor.

    Over a month ago, I had graduated from physical therapy following my last knee replacement. What brought me back to the doctor was a constant pain where my IT band ended near the knee. My knees were terrific, but this new pain was causing me to limp.

    What I learned is that all the exercising that I was doing was great, but my quads needed strengthening. If my quads were stronger, then the IT band wouldn’t have to work so hard. I needed to get my quads to fire.

    I was introduced to Blood Flow Restriction Therapy. The physical therapist put a band similar to a blood pressure cuff on my upper thigh and pumped it up. This stopped the blood from flowing into my leg. I then did straight leg raises, quads over roll, and knee extensions. What this did was engage my quad muscles.

    After two sessions with blood flow restriction therapy I was no longer feeling any pain.

    I recently graduated from physical therapy again. I purchased a blood flow restriction band to continue the exercises at home. My goal is to climb Mount Fuji on our Japan trip this summer. No atrophy allowed.