It’s been a while… I have an excuse (see below). Hope to be posting regularly again. Thanks for visiting. Comments more than welcome. Dru
Walking With Kobi
For a while, with few exceptions, the dawn didn’t rise, it emerged. Even though I had not been turning the thermostat down as low as usual, it took forever for the apartment to warm up, so mornings were uncomfortably chilly. Night fell so quickly you could almost hear it crash and with temps in the low digits and below, Kobi and I weren’t out and about as much as we both like, which is to be expected when you live in Vermont, where winters can be brutal and seem to last forever. But for me, the winter of 2016-17, has been particularly memorable.
Last October, all was well. I was late with the fall diary, but could save it for next year and write a more appropriate one for November. That was the plan and I was sticking to it when I hit the floor, barely missing Kobi on the way down. I woke up sitting at the dining table, staring at my little flip top phone with a vague idea of what it was for, but no idea of how to use it.
November remains a blur, which is just as well. I’ll spare you the details-- except to say I was left with a few crossed wires, which seem to work okay with my loose screws. Hell, I lost my mind years ago. Now, my eye sight, hearing and balance are in jeopardy which does not thrill me, so long as my sense of humor is left intact it’ll be okay.
December was unusually quiet—even for this atheist, who avoids anything more than to enjoy the lights and some of the music. A candle in each window warmed up the long evenings and I treasured more than ever the constant presence of my Kobi.
Sometimes it is really hard to turn down the volume of discord the world choir shrieks out at us -- those voices which would drown out and distract from the nourishment we need to keep us healthy and whole.
It can be even more difficult at times to turn down the disgruntled voices inside which nag, nag, nag at us to acknowledge their importance by talking about them, repeating the details of those scenes of trauma, of pain, those cruel circumstance we have lived through.
Not to trivialize anyone’s negative experiences—woe is woe—but when we prioritize them, over the years, they can morph into a large part of our identity and which, IMHO, don’t deserve that much attention. They’re not that important. We are so much more than a few traumas. Personally, I would rather think of myself as the crazy old gal who sings with her dog as they walk around the block, than the old lady on the corner who had a stroke.
Some of my friends are encouraging me to stop using the word old as part of my self image, but I do have to look in a mirror and am quite proud of the woman who gazes back at me. Close to 77, she has earned her stripes… uh… creases.
Is there laughter in her life today? Does she feel love? Is she surrounded by beauty? Where is she going? What does she want? What’s next?
Looking towards the east some early mornings, a crumpled gray sheet of sky provides little indication of what the day will bring weather wise. But there is comfort and the promise of what is coming as the days are longer and the sun warmer.
When Vermont comes to life in the spring, it’s like the opening scene from “The Sound of Music.” Kobi and I will soon be up at the bike path greeting the mountains and marveling at the beauty of the early wild flowers. That, plus digging in the dirt of my little flower bed and being able to sit amongst the houseplants on the porch with morning coffee (or afternoon vino), is worth waiting a bit longer for.
To tide me over, there will be another get together with Les Femmes, a close circle of friends, who have been meeting at one another’s homes every month, or so, for almost a year and a half. It is amazing that, despite our differences, how these gatherings are a source of both spiritual uplift and solid grounding. Forget any images of ladies who lunch-- last time, confessions of (a few of) the sins of our youth evolved into the value of owning a sump pump.
These days there are very few demands on my time and energy. I feel free to follow my own fancies, which are pretty simple. Moving at my own pace and within my chosen parameters is delightful.
And then, there is Kobi, laying on his side, head resting on my foot under the table where I work and read and ponder, providing a reassuring response to the myriad unknowns of the future.