So Euel told me one day this week on one of our daily walks that he’s been falling, a lot. He fell in the back yard and couldn’t pull himself up because he wasn’t near anything. He said it took almost an hour but he crawled to him back door and was able to grab the door handle and get up.
I already sit on the floor at home rather than in a chair to stay nimble, but I’ve now added daily squats to the routine.
Of course I already know all these things, but being with someone everyday who is adversely impacted because he can’t do certain things has encouraged me to do more…and do it more consistently.
Be sure and check out my writer’s website for poems, short fiction and links to my new novel “Under The Autumn Moon”:
Last spring, my 94 year old nextdoor neighbor, Euel, voluntarily turned in his car keys. “I’m concerned I’ll hurt someone or myself and I don’t want to risk that.”
Euel has been a widower about six years, but remained active driving to Denny’s each morning to see the “regulars” at breakfast, bowling with his long-time team and chairing the local Coca Cola Club meetings.
All that stopped when he quit driving.
It took a couple of weeks of his car not being parked in front of his house for me to realize something had changed. He told me he had made arrangements with a grand niece (the only relative in the state) to take him grocery shopping, the doctors and other errands. She was only coming by once a week though.
I take multiple short walks daily and so started knocking on his door once a day asking, “Do you want to take a walk?”
he was unsteady at first I decided it was the cane his doctor told him to use. Not sure who’s idea it was to put people on a cane for balance when the cane actually causes one to lean over.
So I went to REI and bought Euel trekking poles. He immediately stood straight and had much better balance. We walk not once, but twice a day now. He always says “yes” when I knock on the door.
He knows more about current events than most anyone you’ll meet, but we agreed we have to limit those talks because we are both horrified at what our country has become. So he tells stories and I listen to clues about what he wished he’d done to be better prepared to be ninety-four.
His first lesson: Keep Up With Technology. Euel has not. He has an old computer and basically can only look at existing files. he’s not updated the program and so can’t view most of what he searches.
He has a flip phone and struggles to see who’s calling and how to return the call.
He can’t order Uber or Lyft or Door Dash.
In short, he is radically dependent upon others for everything. He knows that not such a good thing.
Other neighbors have noticed I take walks with Euel and their reactions have been interesting:
-One said, “You’re making us look bad, Betheny.”
-Another said, “I don’t really know what to do around old people.”
-A third has started taking him to the market with her each week and asks him to walk on the days when I’m out of town.
I remember Euel’s Lesson #1 : Keep Up With Technology each time I want to be lazy and have my husband or son do something on the computer for me because I can’t figure it out.
I’m there often before the cafe opens. Not so much to grab the prized table near the fireplace, but to grab “my spot” to sit and write for two hours or more. My Muse has trained me to be punctual so she (he? still not certain) will tell me the story she wants to tell today.
The table has an energy for me.
Apparently it does for many others as well because patrons will round the corner in the cafe holding coffee and their breakfast place only to be disappointed when “the spot” is occupied.
Most will say something like, “You’ve got the best spot,” as if I am supposed to move. Often I’ve only been there fifteen minutes or so and my plate of partially eaten food is still visible.
So now I put buds in my ears, playing music or not, to tune out all the distractions. I move “my table” as close to the wall as possible, pulling the nearby table over to the fire so someone else can enjoy the warmth.
It’s never enough for others though.
The side eye from, sorry to say, usually women over fifty, burns my forehead. Some just stand, look and talk, loudly, with their group about how “that’s where I thought we would sit, but it’s taken.”
Mr. Coronado who cleans the tables has become my buddy. He has worked restaurants where he has seen customers shout and shove over similar situations. Gee. He’s told me to just say, “No entiendo.” That wouldn’t be true for me so I just smile, bury my head down and write. (today about them)
I thought I was signing up for a different book fair held on the same day in my community so I didn’t really know what I was getting into when I realized I was heading to a small town I’d never heard of to participate in my first ever book fair at a new bookstore I’d never heard of.
The place was overflowing with vendors so Leather and Bound Bookbar had to set us up in the adjacent cross fit gym. It was unheated and the side garage doors were open showcasing the vibrant sunset.
I relaxed into my new adventure and had a GREAT TIME!
The people were warm, kind, fun and genuine.
Venders supported one another with conversation, professional advice and manning one another’s table if needed.
And I sold several books.
What was so fulfilling about the sales was that my future readers wanted to talk with me about the book. Several have already started following me on socials, giving sweet shoutouts.
What started as an uncertain journey ended up a meaningful adventure.
This is my favorite week of the year. Thanksgiving. It always has been and I think it’s because my family spent it at my grandparent’s farm where I could take long walks with the birddog, find a spot along the creek, sit and write, for as long as I wanted.
I didn’t have the responsibly of planning, purchasing or cooking any meals, my mom did that. So I was free to roam, dream and write.
To paraphrase Virginia Wolfe, my “room of my own” was the outdoors. That’s where I could be alone for long periods of time. I didn’t have to engage with family, do chores, hear the TV.
We drove from our suburban home to the farm almost every weekend when I was growing up. So I had weekends to wander and much of the summer to do the same. Thanksgiving week held a special appeal and I’m still sorting out why it felt so different.
It might be because that was when the Texas weather switched from hot and dry to chilly and wet. The clouds created a tent of privacy where it was ok to lounge. That’s what I was doing, lounging outside with my journal and imagination.
The yearning to be outdoors has never left.
I live in the city though and it’s so hard to find a remote place where it’s ok for me to wander, sit and write.
Rather than a “room of my own” maybe I need “a land of my own.”
Yesterday was the first day I visited bookstores to introduce myself and ask for them to carry Under The Autumn Moon and schedule in store appearances.
I had my book, a bookmark and a promotional flyer to provide the decision-makers. I went to two bookstores. One asked if I’d been to their website and registered my book. “Yes.”
“Good. That’s the first step because we have more than one hundred authors apply every month.”
“That’s why I also wanted to stop by in person to introduce myself.” (hoping you’ll like me)
The second bookstore was more disappointing as they couldn’t find my book in their system. I googled it for them and showed it was in their system.
“Hmm. Well, let me give you the email for the person who can help you better than I can.”
On and on.
Writing a book is the easy part. Promoting it is rough.
This morning though, I was fine-tuning, probably for the seventeenth time, my next book. I felt very good about my edits and realized I was done. It is ready to send to my editor and publishing partner.
Then I felt tremendous sadness. The loss of not being able to sit every morning and listen to what my characters want me to write about their lives. We have completed that part.
Now I need to do all the things that have to be accomplished to share their story with the world.
Already the next lead character is whispering in my ear, “Can you please tell me story now?”
I’m exhausted by noon most days, just like my cat, Panda, pictured above.
By noon most days, I’ve been on my bike to the nearby cafe, checked the news (briefly), posted on social media promoting Under The Autumn Moon and then settled in to work on my next book (which was actually drafted before I ever thought of Under The Autumn Moon).
This pattern actually worked very well with Autumn Moon and the book flowed easily.
It’s not flowing as well with this story and it’s because I feel I’m on the hamster wheel of marketing/promoting, marketing/promoting…
The energy is completely different. I’m not living with my characters, I’m watching them. I’m thinking how they will be attractive to readers rather than just capturing their story. I’ve apologized to these “people”multiple times. They have trusted me with their tale and I keep saying, “But what about if I do this and change that.”
Tori (my son’s beloved) told me I need to find a cabin in the woods and sequester myself. A sleep, eat, walk, write pattern sounds appealing, but I’m not confident I would stick to it. A strange doubt because I’m very goal oriented and driven to meet deadlines.
As I write this, I keep glancing at the clock as it ticks toward 3 PM and I think how I haven’t done any exercise today, just a couple of short walks which don’t count as exercise, just movement.
I’m still thrilled to have published a book now, along with some previous poems and short fiction.
I just want to cloak myself in my writer’s world again.
BethenyReid 