Wednesday, May 29, 2013

With Age Comes Resiliency.

The past few days I've been whining and complaining (to the dogs since there is no one else  here to listen) that I am aching from last Sunday's trick riding practice.  I probably overdid the riding in the heat but, the resulting pain has made me begin to wonder if I really am getting too old to do such a physical activity.

I guess everyone gets to that point at some time in their lives, some earlier and others.  But,  I could never see me conceding that point.  I sat at the computer thinking about this and was idly watching one of my Boston Terriers make her way through the living room, around the bar, through the kitchen, right turn at the utility room and then heard the sound of the doggie door swinging back and forth.

Now this doesn't sound all that noteworthy until you realize that she is 13 years old and totally blind.  Jazmine  lost one eye in a dog fight over a new Christmas toy several years ago and 2 years ago, she lost sight in the other eye due to cataracts. She is grayed out and her hair coat has patches of  missing hair .  She is by most standards, old and disabled.

I don't think Jazmine got that memo.  Weighing at around 10 pounds, she is by far the smallest dog here.  That fact has also escaped her.  As a young dog she was what we call 'scrappy'.  She would fight over food, toys or just for general purposes.  And the size of her opponent never fazed her.  Her personality was 'determined' on a good day and down right aggravating on most days.

Now, in her senior years and blind,  Jazmine is STILL 'scrappy' and 'determined' and Lord help me, but sometimes she aggravates me so badly I want to scream.  You see, Jazmine has not changed her mode of operation in anyway.  It does no good to yell, "Jazmine, get out from under my feet!"  She has no idea that she is under your feet and has no inclination to remedy that situation.  At feeding time, with 7 dog bowls on the floor, she eats her food with the ferocity of a lion then, using her nose, she locates the next nearest dog bowl and not caring if it is being used by the 180 pound Great Dane, she stumbles in, grabs the rim of the bowl with what teeth she has left and tries to drag it away from it's owner.  This invariably starts a dog fight.  EVERYDAY!

You see, Jazmine has always done that and even with her blindness and advancing old age, she doesn't even consider stopping that behavior.  It doesn't occur to her that she is 'too old' to do that.

And then there are her navigational skills.  She does not timidly move around, sniffing the ground but instead, walks confidently into walls and furniture.  You can hear the thump of her little head from other rooms.  But, she is totally unfazed.  She merely turns left or right and proceeds forward again.  Thump!  Right turn,   Thump, Left turn.  You get the pattern here?  Wouldn't you think she would just give up?

I watch her from my chair and I silently cheer her on.  She gives me  hope that with age, I have that same tenacity, that same resiliency.  Thump, turn, forward.  Thump....turn....forward

Thursday, May 23, 2013

That Joyous Gift

Yep, it's been a long time since I have posted.  Writing about getting old seriously crimps the whole "I'm getting old" denial thing and any woman who is still trying to trick ride at 58 years old is in serious denial.

But today, something happened that I wanted to share.  Today I attended my first Kindergarten graduation.  No, I never attended kindergarten or pre-school as a child.  Things were different back when wheels were still square.   I was invited to attend this ceremony by a friend whose little boy was graduating.

I must admit, my expectations were not high, but it was an excuse to put on a sundress and venture off the ranch and into public.  But, sometimes you get a gift you aren't expecting. This was a joyous gift.

The auditorium was packed with nervous parents.  Every hand in the room had held a camera or cell phone. Music was softly playing as I took my seat with my friends on the front row.  Then the ceremony began.  Little people filed onto the stage, dressed to the nines and wearing their caps and tassels.  They formed 3 rows on the stage.  First order of business was The Pledge of Allegiance.  Even the most jaded and disillusioned patriot would have been moved at the bold and determined voices reciting our Pledge.  It only got better.  On cue from the music teacher, they sang.  Boy, did they sing.  Some with exuberance, some with timidity but each one was searching for their family in the audience.  Each one had a vested interest in being there.  My friend's son took the stage with one pant leg tucked down in his cowboy boot.  God I loved that!

After taking their seats, the procession began.  One by one they came to the stage.  The principal shook the hands of tiny little girls, swaggering boys, timid children, bold children. Each one stepped up to applause.  One little girl had obviously been coached by her Mother to pose onstage for pictures.  Even though the principal was urging her to move on, she determinedly held her ground until the camera flashes stopped.  (Shows who has the most authority huh?  Mom trumps Principal everytime.)

And then the gift happened.  That joyous gift.  As one young man accepted his diploma and turned to leave the stage, from somewhere in the back, a deep voice boomed out,  "Good Job!  I Love You Son."

That was IT.  It was instantaneous, that lump in my throat, that wetness in my eyes.  And I wasn't the only one.  Everyone around me felt it.

I knew the gift was an affirmation of love,  the family kind, the kind of love that encompasses all ages,  all genders, all paths of life.  I may be getting older, but I can still recognize love when I hear it, when I see it and I hope I am never too old to feel that joy.

Thank you to the friends that included me in their joy and to that father in the back who wasn't at all embarrassed to share his joy.  For in the end,  it is JOY that sustains us all.