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 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.
I’ve been whining about the work habits of te people at my new corner cafe where I go to write every morning.
It’s supposed to open at 7 AM. They never open the door before to accommodate us early arrivers like the old cafe did. In fact, several groups from the old place have abandoned this place because you can’t depend on a 7 AM opening.
I’ve started arriving at 7:15 or as late as 7:30 so I idon’thave to wait outside.
My whining stopped earlier this week.
It was fifteen degrees with snow flurries. Very unusual for my area. I didn’t arrive at the corner cafe until 8 AM. Eight! The day feels half over when I’m that late.
I pulled my hat down over my ears, zipped my coat up, grabbed my backpack with my laptop out of the back seat and tiptoed to the front door so as to not slip on the ice.
The door was locked. A paper with a handwritten note said, “We are opening late today due to inclement weather.”
I cussed out loud and headed back to my car when I heard the click of the lock and the manager shouted, “We are open now.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. Please come in. We have the fire going.”
I settled into “my” table next to the fireplace and started my routine of journaling, then writing on my novella.
A little while later I overheard another customer talking with the manager about the ice roads he and some of the other workers endured that morning.
“Yeah, we live in Sherman and none of the roads were cleared so it took us longer than usual.”
I stopped and looked at the corner café team behind the counter. Sherman, Texas is sixty-five miles one way from here.
This team of people who keep the coffee hot, bake the croissant I nibble on while writing and clean the restrooms spend at least an hour driving here and another hour driving home, five or six times a week for a job that pays little and probably offers no benefits to most.
There’s something magical about being married to your best friend more than half your life.
It isn’t just the shared memories and experiences, it’s the liking, loving and respecting someone that cuts a groove of grounding, stability, trust and then the freedom to explore, change and become a fuller person in this world.
I have had to find a new cafe for my morning writing sessions as the old one permanently closed.
The new cafe, though just across the road from the old one, has two or three regulars who appear to be without permanent homes. Their clothes are frayed and their possessions are plastic bags. One is a woman who does have a bicycle and a black daypack (like me). She sits in the corner charging an old cell phone. I’ve never seen her with food or even a cup of coffee.
I’m new to this place and wonder the management’s protocol about paying for other guests’ food.
I want to just say to her one morning, “Can I buy you breakfast?”
How hard would that be? I’ve done it before in other places. Why hesitate here?
BethenyReid 