nap
The breeze beneath the old pecan tree was blowing from the west and feeling like someone opened a sauna door. Just three days from the official declaration of Summer and the temperature and humidity combined was breathtaking. Just a swift visit to the garden to gather a few cucumbers rendered this septuagenarian worthy of a visit to the clothes dryer for a fresh pair of shorts and a shirt. As the recliner in the air-conditioned den embraced this somewhat stiff and slow-moving host to Parkinson’s, I had a flashback to days gone by when as just a young boy I sat in this same room in the middle of summer trying to cool down from the swelter outside with the assistance of only an electric fan blowing the semi fresh air drifting through the open windows. During that time, summer on the farm was fraught with constant daily chores interspersed with an early afternoon respite (and nap, if one could endure the heat while sleeping) from the burning heat and sun outside. Perspiration was one’s companion, but it never seemed to be a deterrent to the ever-eager activities of the then young and restless farm boy. Clad only in shorts, without shirt or shoes, this browned and secure youngster roamed the fields, pasture, and woodlands finding arrowheads, crayfish, terrapins (box turtles) and an occasional salamander. Many years have passed since then and this blessed adventure called life has taken me around the world to places I only dreamed about in the days of my youth (and many I never knew existed). The joy of the childhood memories is enhanced as I look thankfully upon the walls wherein those memories were made and offer up my heartfelt gratitude for the young life experience as a farm boy. The barefooted youngster has become a want to be secure footed oldster living in the air-conditioned abode from which it all began, filled with a heart of gratitude for not only this place, but also the gift of others with whom I share the richness of this humble place called home!
Silence is broken by the rhythmic whirl of the ceiling fan as it helps to keep the air stirring in the old farm house. The pup, having delivered her gift to the grassy meadow, lies curled beneath the coffee table as she visits her morning nap. Here in the confines of my childhood dwelling with scores of lifelong relics denoting adventures and experiences building and growing family and relationship, I reflect upon the wonders and joys that have filled our lives. Feelings of grief have invaded recently prompting tearful and emotional moments that seem to come out of the blue. Clinically, depletion of dopamine in the brain can prompt and or exacerbate what would otherwise be normal responses to life changes. Past reactions would have been to “suck it up” and move on to just “get over it” and “chalk it up” as a part of life. A conscious decision to “let it happen” has been so very freeing. The recent TV news report of children from Syria now working as field hands in Lebanon ignited a flood gate of tearful emotions. A sort of purge springs forth in response to injustice, to loss, or to tragedy. A similar experience was had after the initial diagnosis of PD some years ago. The stages of grief have been real and the emotional healing after these stages has been real as well. Today, in the quiet of this moment, I reflect with gratitude and joy upon the experiences and relationships that this explorer calls life. Thankfulness is the cup from which this wanderer quenches his thirst. The cup over flows today!