Sunday, May 15, 2016

Sidewalks, Trees, and Finitude

I went on an adventure yesterday. After dropping Dolan at play rehearsal, and leaving the van (which I haven't driven in over a year), I set off alone from MSU-Northern to go downtown. Downtown Havre was holding an outdoor event, Discover Downtown, and I wanted to see it. So off I went.

I love Havre, but it's not the most accessible place. Many corners don't have curb cuts, necessitating detours to the street or alley adjacent. Needless to say, that allows me to see more, and feel more daring.

Although the sidewalks are heaved and cracked, one only has to look at the abundant trees to discern the cause of the damage. That, and the subsequent pernicious freeze-thaw that rips up sidewalks and roads in chinook country. Would I like smooth, wide sidewalks? Sure. However, not at the cost of being deprived of trees. If I look at my experience with ALS in that light, I can also appreciate what I receive with the suffering: bountiful friendships and an appreciation for the beauty around me.

I ended my independent trek with Mass at St. Jude's. People seemed surprised and concerned that I was alone. I am confident that as long as I am seat-belted in my chair, I can go anywhere my chair can go by myself. If I have to give that up, I will truly mourn.

I am listening to Atul Gawande's Being Mortal.  I think often of our failure to recognize that we all die, that no one life is more valuable than another, and that saying we battle a disease makes those of us who accept our circumstance seem weak. I am not saying people who seek treatment or follow regimens of diet or exercise are wrong, just that those of us who choose not to do so aren't giving up. 

I choose to reflect on my past, to read old correspondence, to watch Netflix, and to spend time outside enjoying the yard. When friends come over, I enjoy them immensely. As talking grows more difficult, though, being alone is okay.  Thank goodness I was always comfortable alone.

We are all given something to compensate for what we have lost. Sherman Alexie 

4 comments:

  1. Wow, Pam, that's a pretty ambitious ride from Northern, down the hill to downtown Havre. I'm trying to imagine it, as I remember the drive, sort of. You are a trooper! If you are up for a visit, I would like to come up in June.

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    1. Margaret, my wheelchair does all the work! June is a lovely month to visit Havre. We do expect guests on two weekends, but the more the merrier used to be my motto!

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    2. Pam, I would like to come up for a day early in June. It will probably not be on a weekend, though. I will make sure to notify you when I figure it out.

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