It is odd to think about the little turning points in life. When I was out engaging in some retail therapy a couple of weeks ago, after a pretty nice little royalty check, I decided to buy Buddy a new collar. Doesn't everybody go to Pet Smart for retail therapy? So I splurged on a Gentle Leader, which had been earnestly recommended by several friends, but I hadn't paid any attention because it was too expensive and I didn't see how it could actually work.
See, I have this dog love going on, a new experience for me. Ever since this pup showed up on our doorstep 18 months ago, straggly, cold, hungry and kind of snarly, my life has not been the same. I've grown unreasonably attached to him and also done what I always do in a new situation: learned stuff. I've checked out books from the library, watched training videos, talked to friends, tapped Jill's many years of experience with dogs, watched tv shows and most of all played and interacted with him every day since Christmas Day 2010. Now that he's almost 2, he's grown strong and single-minded. When he wants to chase a squirrel, that's what he's going to do, and being on a leash is no deterrent. It had gotten to the point that we couldn't even go for walks anymore because it was too much of a struggle. Hence, the Gentle Leader.
It works. I went home and watched You Tube videos, one after another, before I realized that it came with its own instruction video. All the claims, even though they were right in front of me in video, still seemed too good to be true. But when I put it on him, exactly as instructed, within 5 minutes we were trotting down the street having a good ol' time. Squirrels? He stops to look, but a slight tug and a command of "Let's go" and we're walking again, loose leash and all. I'd do a commercial for them any day!
And why is this a turning point? Well, you don't actually know a turning point till it's behind you, but I will say this. Ever since Buddy has been able to take enjoyable walks, we've been walking. Now, I've lived here for 25 years, here being Wake County NC. In all that time, there have been a couple of parks that I would go to with kids and family for picnics, but I really didn't have time for such things. I was busy working and raising kids. I heard there was a Greenway system, but all I knew was that occasionally there would be a report in the news about a flasher or a mugging on a greenway --- not often, just once in a while. I decided never to go on a greenway because it was dangerous.
But now, Buddy and I can go for walks and I am retired. I'm no longer too busy to get outdoors for the joy of it. Every morning during the week, we drop Mom off at daycare and pick a park or greenway to explore. As soon as we get into a wooded area, Buddy starts to whimper and jump around in the back seat, anxious to get into the new scents of grass and trees. Jill has one day a week off work, so she gets to come with us on those days. We got ourselves some expensive all-terrain shoes (real retail therapy) and now I feel ready for whatever we find.
This is what I've found. Even at my all-time highest weight, I love my body. I love the way I feel when I'm using my arms and legs, eyes and ears. Memories are awakened from long ago. Raleigh is not hardcore urban living by any stretch, but being surrounded by forest, hearing birdsongs and running water, feeling sun and breeze, smelling soil and flowers and vegetation, all bring childhood back to life for me. Back then, I played outside a lot. I used to lie in the grass, roll down the hills, run through fields and wade in creeks. I dug in the mud with sticks, scratched hopscotch into flat dirt and used stones for playing pieces. I took my beloved books outside and read in the shade of a tree.
In those days, before I hit the age of self-consciousness, I did love myself exactly the way I was. I loved the feel of sun on my skin, wind in my hair, rain on my face. I had no fear of what others would think of my too-small shorts, my uncombed, crooked-bangs hairdo, my protruding tummy or short, stubby legs. I loved myself from the inside out, instead of reviling myself from the outside in.
Being a full-time caregiver for someone with dementia is a difficult task. As my mother regresses, I see my teenage self reflected in much of what she says and does, and it makes me sad for both of us. She's stuck in a world of needing to look right, even though she will put on unmatched shoes and not tolerate having her hair washed. She pines for a boyfriend, mourns the loss of self that the admiration of men has always brought her. Her sense of self-worth was always fragile, dependent on the approval of others, but now it is almost non-existent, and she doesn't know why. Through all of this, I watch and see parts of myself that need healing, that actually are being healed. It's utterly painful at times, but strengthening as well. I still have time for a salvation, of sorts.
I'm off the couch these days, thanks to a four-legged trainer and the Gentle Leader collar. The self that I bring back to the house, to the couch, is a much more centered and available one ---- ready to be caregiver to Mom and loving wife to Jill. All on account of a little ol' collar ---- that is not too expensive anymore.
No comments:
Post a Comment