That is what it feels like. Literally and figuratively.
For four years, I lived my life at Mom's pace, in her world, whatever it happened to be that day. Shortening my stride to match hers, constantly scanning the ground for unevenness that might take her down. Hovering, almost fearful of what may happen next. Let's face it, with Alzheimer's you never knew what was going to happen next.
Walking down the driveway the other day, I realized that I was still walking at Mom's pace, shortening my stride, watching the ground...but she isn't there anymore. Granted, some of this may be because my driveway is like a level luge course, hard and icy and dangerous (yay for STABILicers). Everybody (if you're prudent) walks like an old woman around here nowadays.
When I'm in a store,(about the only place with dry, level ground) and when the ground isn't so dangerous in the coming months, I'll practice walking. Head up, striding with purpose, at my own pace. Moving and looking forward, wherever that may lead.
10 comments:
Yes. That is exactly what it feels like.
I can understand this. Our brain and bodies don't always communicate and get set in a habit.
I so know what you are saying, been there too.
walk on... wishing you beautiful paths.
Your Mom's pace was a good one. Nothing wrong with taking it slowly, and seeing all the little bumps. But you will find your own pace, and it will doubtless incorporate your Mom's in it- and that is a beautiful thing.
your pictures, thoughts, and work continue to inspire...thank you Annie of Maple Corners
What a darling dog she is! I think if you choose something close to the original sounds of her name it's not too big a stretch and she'll get it. Plus, we don't realize how many 100's of times a month we say the same things to our dogs and reinforce them. I had a million nicknames for my dog Scarlet (whose name I didn't choose) and she gradually responded to all of them. So something similar sounding like (don't hate me) Myra, Mylie, Hyatt, or whatever sounds good to you would probably work. Especially if she is a food-loving dog which most are.
I remember this! Same lingering presence at my side long after my grandmother passed on and also a friend of mine who was blind (and used to borrow my eyes for shopping and sight seeing). It was like I was still considering them long after they weren't needing my leading any more! My friend who was blind, told me she wanted to jump on the clouds! Bet she did on her way home!
What an important and valuable process - finding your own feet again, after they have sympathized with your mother's for so long. You're emerging from a cocoon, mature and beautiful.
You come walk with me and we will soon will be running. I have no doubt that your pace will pick up as soon as it is spring. Watch out world, here she comes
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