Sound of Music…and snow

Beatrix and I attended the local theatre group’s (The Klaglahachie* Fine Arts Society) presentation of The Sound of Music last evening. It was a great three-hour performance. Lots of local young people, a couple of College drama students, a teacher of two – two complete families (mother, father and up to four kids) participated! The evening brought back many memories from the lives of my children, as they were all born soon after the movie came out. I can remember my eldest daughter, as a child, begging for her mother to sing with her the “doe-a-deer” song.

Reflecting on the evening, I had pangs of regret that I couldn’t be involved in such an event, as I have been in the past. The last time I tried, I was so exhausted that I was ill by the end. It hit me: I am well past the possibility of such an enterprise. Even if I had wanted to try, my physician (”Don’t get too excited about things…”) would have forbidden it. As I wandered among the cast after the performance, I picked up the adrenalin high that engulfed everyone. I was awake until 2 AM!

As part of the recovery process from the stroke, I am continually called upon to let go of aspects of my old life, my life as a younger and more fully functioning human being. At times it’s quite painful. Other times, like last night, it makes me wistful, and I happily wander among the youthful cast, sweaty and smiling, bubbling with enthusiasm and joy. It lists the spirit, even if the heart is sad that “those days are gone forever.”

A more sobering reminder, and far less present, awaited me this morning. Some time in the late afternoon yesterday, the local snowplough crew came down our street and left a flattened windrow about a foot deep across our driveway. We couldn’t see it last night, and very nearly got stuck on the way home. I went out to look at it by morning light today. A foot deep of icy snow, filled with salt and grit, and largely frozen in place. With a snowstorm predicted for Sunday evening, I felt like this had to be moved, or we would definitely be stuck on Monday.

So I started chopping at it with our ice blade. I had though it might be possible to use the snow blower to move it, but that was a vain hope. This stuff was rock hard. So I chopped and shoveled for fifteen or twenty minutes before I remembered that the physicians had told me “No more snow shoveling.” I stopped, and realized that the few minutes I had worked left me feeling exhausted. I turned the job over to Beatrix, who “manfully” cleared things as best she could – quite acceptably.

I have felt tired all day, and have pondered the reality of yet another loss. I can no longer take care of my own winter chores without mechanical help. I feel helpless and…old. So tonight I will go to bed earlier, and when it snows on Monday, I’ll fire up the big snow machine and let it chuck the stuff off the drive.

One lesson at a time…sow learner. Reluctant learner…but still alive.

* Klaglahachie is a non-word, which has been described as “probably Scottish…more likely Mongolian” by its inventor!