heart
The date indicates that Summer should be near its close. The temperature and humidity indicate otherwise. Placing the tarp over the passenger seat of the truck in preparation for Gracie’s transport to the groomer left this PD hosting Boomer with a sticky neck, forehead and overall overheated body. Gracie had already left about three of herself lying all over the floor of the house as she shed her golden hair with little effort and spread it around generously even on the mantle after rolling on the floor and then shaking herself vigorously. Her majesty is not accustomed to walking leashed, since the farm yard is her playground and she never wanders far from the comfort of her shelter. A walk to the groomer, however, is fraught with commands to slow down, as my arm is outstretched, and my shuffling feet are forced to hobble haphazardly forward. The two-hour duration of her nose to tail-tip grooming procedure left me with time to try some shopping and a leisurely lunch at one of my favorite eateries. Even with the full dose of dopamine replenishment in place, these feet attached to these aging legs shuffled ever so slowly to stroll through a couple of nearby stores. Lunch was delicious, but the task of shuffling to order and then taking a seat for its delivery left me challenging my thinking about “eating out” while the pooch was prepped. Soon the text came that Gracie was groomed and ready for her departure back to the home she so dearly loves sharing her fur within. A groomed and less-haired dog prompted the thought that the few days of shedding deposits occupying the floors would best be hosted in the trash by way of the vacuum cleaner. Emptying the canister numerous times amid raging resistance from a body hosting on what has become known as an “off day,” reminded me that life is NOT like it used to be. This disease is real and its manifestations can be at times daunting. The plans I had for the rest of the day and evening were soon “tabled” for a time of relative quiet and intended relaxation to allow the pain and stiffness to subside. This prideful participant in the sometimes-painful Parkinson’s Disease process is frequently faced with what sometimes appears to be the choice between “giving up” or “sucking up” in the throughs of disease symptomology. I have discovered, however, that there is yet another response that serves this host better. That is the act of “offering up” with a grateful heart those expressions of thankfulness for so many things that bring us through challenges. The list would fill a lifetime! A grateful heart is a thriving one!
Broccoli slips planted two weeks ago are thriving and asparagus should be sprouting up any day. The time is arriving soon when the rest of the garden can be planted without concern for frost or freezing. Spring has emerged full force from the throes of winter bringing with it warm days and cool nights and random showers to moisten the fields. Birds are at times frantically preoccupied with the building of nests virtually anywhere safe from the elements. Life’s cycle in nature is manifesting itself yet again as it demonstrates the wonder of creation. In two days I too will take a step toward renewal as I submit to the cardiologist’s skill at “cardioversion.” Through either medication effects or my unique cardiac perception of time and space, my atrium has engaged consistently in flutter and fibrillation. The winter of rapid pulse rate is soon drawing to a close and the spring of normal sinus rhythm is around the corner. As I anticipate the procedure that will literally stop my heart and “shock” it back to a normal rate I must do so with a metaphorical heart placed in the hands of gratitude for the opportunity to have this done. I have studied the risks of such a procedure as well as the consequences of doing nothing and I have chosen to engage the former. Trust and faith are both at work as I look ahead to an outcome that is both renewing and rewarding. Grace will sustain the outcome however it may unfold!
Water in the old kettle atop the hot wood stove bubbles as the heat rises to warm the room. Though the sun shines bright today, the cold of winter makes itself known through every crack and crevice that is not sufficiently sealed in this old farm house. The stillness of the morning is a welcomed reprieve from the blustery winds that brought with it subzero temperatures last evening. In the warmth of the morning fire and in the presence of the shinning sun we pause to reflect upon present and past. Challenges have more often than not been turned into opportunities for growth and burdens have been lightened with a healthy dose of gratitude. Healthy reflection often illuminates the light we may often have taken for granted. Yesterday is gone, but reflecting on it in the light of today presents opportunity to brighten our path each step of the way. A thankful heart is the instrument through which gratitude brightens our vision. May we be willing instruments that grow to see the gift of grace as more than mere rhetoric. As we take it in, may we live it out!
The view of Shenandoah Valley in Virginia is spectacular as one travels along the interstate highway. Rolling green hills dotted often with red barns and cattle grazing in vast fields were illuminated by the radiant sunlight pouring through the crystal blue sky. The enormous mountains in the distance remind one that this beautiful place truly is in the valley. We traveled this route twice this weekend. The first journey through the valley was distracted by the anticipation of getting to our Pennsylvania mountain retreat through roads not traveled before. A safe arrival and inspiring weekend prepared us to be in a more thankful and peaceful mind as we journeyed back home. The valley had not changed, but our minds and emotions had been stimulated to a place of peaceful gratitude so that when in the midst of the valley we were in awe of its beauty like never before. Perhaps we learned a valuable lesson along this journey. The grandeur of one’s view is influenced by the state of mind and heart through which the view is filtered. One’s eyes may be the receptacle, but one’s heart and mind are the interpreters. A grateful heart is the best lens through which life is viewed!
Crackles and a roar from the old cast iron stove give evidence that the living space in the old farm house will soon be warmer. With animals and humans fed, it’s time for thoughtful and thankful reflection upon God’s gifts. The wonder of renewed connections since this year began has been amazing. Not only has there been reconnection with dear college friends, but also with a cherished cousin from whom contact had been lost for years. Another delight arrived just a few nights ago when we discovered that our former Pastor from our church in Connecticut is living less thirty miles away. A quick email to the contact information we found prompted a rapid and welcoming response from the man who baptized our daughter. Memories flooded my mind as we emailed back and forth with only highlights of the years since Milford. Our task will now be to establish a time when we can reconnect face to face with this inspiring man and his equally engaging wife. Reflecting now on the wonder of friends, family, and acquaintances, I give thanks to the creator of relationships whose demonstration of grace and mercy has and will continue to be the model upon which we stand. Not only have we established delightful new acquaintances over the past year here, but we have also uncovered older connections that add to our delight. A heap of gratitude now fills this overflowing heart!
(By Cathy Garrott)
It’s interesting how people with PD tend to bond immediately. A former student of mine (30 yrs. ago) goes to the same rehab center that I do and recently, because of a schedule change, we have been in the same group exercising in the pool once a week. Her husband told me last week that since she has been in my group she has been doing MUCH better physically and mentally/emotionally as well.
In thinking about this woman (who is 10 years older than I) she and I were not the best of friends when she was my student, so I didn’t feel particularly “close” to her. But after I was diagnosed with PD in August of last year she suddenly became very interested in renewing our contact. Now she looks forward to coming to rehab and walking in the pool with me. She has opened up her heart and shared things I would never expect to know about her. It’s like God just opened the door and gave me a grand welcome into her life.
She told me that before I came she felt as if no one really understood the struggles she was dealing with, and going to rehab was so emotionally stressful that she could not see the physical benefits from it. But now she feels that she has a companion in the struggle and she looks forward to rehab. Before she did not want to walk, once she got into the pool, because her pace was so much slower than the others and she was embarrassed. Now I walk beside her and encourage her to keep moving … and she does because she knows I’m struggling with the same foe.
We are trying to climb this same mountain, known as PD, and sharing with others the victories we have had is an encouragement to them as well. Keeping our mental focus looking up instead of inward enables us to make the next leg of the journey with hope instead of despair. Heart to heart we can overcome the psychological barriers and help others in the process. This way, EVERY day can be Valentine’s Day!!!
The street was cluttered with rickshaws, bicycles, and cars that were trying to navigate the passage to their destination that morning in what was then known as Bombay, India. The smell of diesel fumes and incense wafted into the taxi transporting the snugly secured Ahsha (my daughter) fastened around my neck and chest. We had witnessed the flurry of humanity that approached taxis with hands outstretched for any bit of change. It was not uncommon to see young mothers baring breasts with baby in tow in a gesture implying no milk for the hungry. I had seen a couple of folks in New York on the subway who made a profession of panhandling, but this was far more heart wrenching. On an earlier taxi ride the driver had warned against giving even a penny lest the taxi be surrounded quickly by those looking to receive just a pittance. Suddenly, a young man approached the window that was opened only slightly that December morning in 1987. His hands were missing fingers eaten away by the ravage of leprosy. I was moved almost to tears as I reached in my pocket and handed him through the tiny opening a ten rupee bill, the smallest denomination I had on me at the time. It was less than one dollar, but the taxi driver burst into a shout of admonition; “That man has never seen that much money before!” I responded; “I’ve never seen a leper before, so I guess we’re even.” The taxi driver was not amused, but took us safely to our destination. We are so often concerned with our own agendas that we can miss the opportunity to respond to the heart’s tug toward the need of others. A possible blessing from giving is the receipt of thankfulness at the ability to give. No gift is too small to be grand. A smile toward a worried soul could be the spark that ignites a moment of inspiration.