Mr. Natural
Felt like I could fly yesterday. A bit. Got good news. The old AAA, my abdominal aortic aneurysm, is stable. No signs of leakage or growth. Was told by the doctor he’d see me next year. Called a bunch of folks looking for someone with whom I could share the news. No one was home. Finally got a friend. Shared the news. In the end, I decided to go for a walk. I’m getting ready for a hiking trip in February and I’m building my legs. Strapped on my boots, took a big drink and off I went.
Headed into the park, then straight on through town to the big highway where TxDot generously put in sidewalks. Walked back toward town, then turned right into the neighborhood. Got to the ballpark. The winter rye was freshly mown, the air was cool, the sun was setting, and a group of boys were taking batting practice. I walked around the outfield fence, watching them, listening to the ping of bat against ball. Got to right field, and the park’s sidewalk. Took it back into town. Went by the courthouse. Walked up Pecan Street, back across the highway and home. A little over three miles. The sun was down, but the sky still glowed. I glowed.
Now, I’m up and ready for the day. I’ve got things to do. Wanted to do them yesterday, but it was a holiday. That’s good. I like holidays although they take on a different tone in retirement. Almost like weekends. The two days I used to anticipate. Now they’re just two days, much like any two days. I think I’ll take another walk today. I want to be at five miles before we head off for my trip. It seems doable. After all, it’s just walking. One foot in front of the other until you get to the end. And I’ll say it once again, it’s just like life. You put one foot in front of the other, and to steal a phrase from my youth, you keep on truckin’. Like Mr. Natural.
John W. Wilson is the author of The Long Goodbye: A Caregiver's Tale