Letting Go

It is another in a series of cloudy, cool September mornings. It may have rained but not heavily.

My understanding is that this is the last day of summer and that the first day of fall will be tomorrow, Monday 22nd.

I have now negotiated 3 days of work after my illness and all is well. Yesterday’s shift dragged a fair bit, and I was counting the minutes at the end but it was one of those slow days and of course the end eventually came, as it always does despite my impatience.

I noticed on the way home last night that I had more than usual vertigo. I seemed to be stumbling quite a bit, partially because it was dark and I couldn’t gauge the uneven surfaces of the sidewalk, but also I think because I was rushing to get home. It's like being slightly drunk.

I am trying to stay centered and balanced to the best of my ability. I am also trying not to panic or despair at my seemingly decreasing physical capacities. We all get old…it is a part of life.

There has been no news the past few days from family members, and I am assuming all is stable…God willing.

I get fragments of understanding about my inability to affect the outcomes in the lives of my close ones. All I can do is stay focused, pray and help out where I know I can or where I am asked to help.

At this time of the year my mind goes back to the mid 1990’s and our first fall in the Juniper Co-op in Kits. I am sitting at my little DOS based computer with amber text on the screen, noting how the colors of the fall leaves outside the window are reflected in the color of the text and feeling a certain sense of security that for this winter at least our family is safe and protected.

We spent close to six years there if my memory serves and it was only the last one that was truly challenging and painful as I knew my time was up and I would have to leave the company of my beloved family. Hopefully the pain of that year has been duly processed but my heart still aches when I think about it.

The theme of leaving seems to be a constant one in my life and for some reason the leaving has rarely been initiated by me, but always forced upon me by circumstance. If there is a life lesson I have had to learn repeatedly it is the one of letting go.

I am now in my 7th year in my little West End bachelor apartment and I believe it is the longest I have ever lived anywhere. Sometimes when I come home from a busy day I kiss the walls, giving thanks that I have this safe haven in a city where so many are sleeping on the sidewalks. But my recent stay in the hospital reminded me that nothing is written in stone, and that any moment our imagined independence can be taken from us.

These days I am realizing more and more that there is only One Source of security and strength, and it is greater than anything I could possibly create.

I am learning to trust in this.

...so get with it old boy!

It's a rainy, cool September morning and I am heading back to work this morning for my 3rd work day since being off ill for a month.

It feels like the onset of fall, but the Equinox is not for a couple of days.

It's interesting and lucky for me that bountiful West Coast summer lingered on until the day before I returned to work, since I did not have a great time off for most of the month for reasons already blogged.

But the last week, each day was brilliantly sunny, and I was able to get down to the seawall almost every evening to watch the vivid sunsets, a reminder of the blessings in my life.

The return to work has not been stressful as I imagined it might be. I still have use my cane to get around the office, but my balance is really much better than it has been. And the youngsters (smile) in the office, far from making fun of me have been bastions of support.

I received so much love on my return to work, that it felt more like a family reunion than work and it was very empowering to feel I had actually been missed.

The only times during these days that I have actually felt really shaky have been on my evening walks home, once I am tired and the dizziness begins to set in.

I have kept up my blood pressure meds this time, although the blood pressure is once again up slightly due to the inevitable stress at work that is always present, even when you try to give your best.

My family doctor said it best: What job isn't stressful?

Or as the Buddhists say: Life is suffering.

I have to remind myself : Stress is part of the fabric of life, so get with it old boy!

An Almost Indescribable Evening

It is a somewhat cloudy and hazy Saturday morning, proving the weather forecasters wrong again. They predicted hot and clear.

Last evening however was pristine and beautiful along the seawall and I stayed to enjoy the sunset. It was one of those evenings you don’t want to miss, echoing some of the beautiful sunsets I witnessed last year at this time.

I took my usual evening walk along Harwood to Burrard and then over to Hornby where I cut down to the seawall. I took my time, making my way back under the Burrard Street Bridge to Sunset Beach and then on to the Inukshuk at English Bay.

There was a group of about 12 Asian students enjoying the spectacle and enjoying themselves enjoying it, taking numerous digital photos and posing and making faces for the camera. Their good energy was infectious while at the same time remaining unobtrusive.

Since all the benches were being used, I stood by the rocks at water’s edge for some time enjoying the brilliant flash of sunlight reflected on the steely surface of the water, the thin layer of mist only partially obscuring the contours of the green land masses in the distance, and the almost spectral play of mist and color over the trees above the beach.

It was as though there was a rainbow whose colors were barely perceptible, shimmering just behind the evening light.

One of the students, a young girl clambered up on the rocks just behind me when my back was turned. I realized that they were trying to get shots of the sunset and my presence was obscuring the view, but she gave me a beautiful and unselfconscious smile as she posed for her friends.

I discreetly removed myself from the foreground and found a bench a few feet down the walkway where I paused to watch the sun’s slow progress towards the water, and the delightful play of light involved and to listen to the enchanting sounds of their voices and laughter.

As the sun continued its descent the evening chill began to creep in, and so I moved and walked back down towards the Aids Memorial, where I usually make my way back up to my apartment. I am still using my cane so the walk was slow and meditative.

I paused many times to admire the play of light over the surfaces of the trees and building, and could not help but think about my good friend Herb in his last years, and how he used to do the same thing.

A man appeared carrying a djembe or African style hand drum, settled himself on the rocks above the water and began a slow symphonic tone poem to the setting sun.

Just before I turned up the hill, I noticed a flash of bronze from the rock jetty reaching out into the bay. It was the golden sunlight catching the contours of the bare bottom of a young girl almost camouflaged among the grey rocks.

She had taken down her panties to pee and with the clumsy grace only a young girl can muster, she managed to raise her bum straight up in the air before finally settling down to a more sheltered position. She may have been about 11 or 12 years old, and her mother or older sister stood at the top of the rocks protecting and watching her.

When she finished she clambered up the rocks like a young gazelle and into the lap of the woman and they began to embrace and kiss each other with a kind of playful and erotic gentleness that can only arise between those bonded in spirit and love.

I was far enough away that they couldn't see me watching and I confess I didn't want to tear my eyes away from them; the dance between the two of them was so sublime.

The young girl could not seem to get enough of the hugging and kissing, and did everything she could to entice the other to continue. The older woman while trying to maintain decorum and some distance between them, was obviously enraptured by the energy of the young girl and finally gave up, becoming 12 years old herself and immersing herself in ecstasy of the moment.

At this point I gave up trying to climb the hill and found an empty bench once again to enjoy the full spectacle of the sunset, weather the evening chill, and watch the last of the tug-of-war between the two on the rocks until the deepening dusk drove them to their feet and back up to the seawall.

Now I wonder how I am going to find the words to describe this, I thought as I walked home and meditated on the shape and substance of tomorrow’s blog.

The things we take for granted...

Good news...all things being equal I will return to work on September 18th.

My balance is still wonky but closer to normal than it’s been since mid-August when I was admitted to hospital.

I was speaking to one of my co-workers on Wednesday and she told me the same thing happened to her a while back, an air-born viral infection of the inner ear causing vertigo for over 2 weeks.

The things we don’t know! I joked that had they picked me up on the street, they would’ve thrown me in the drunk tank.

This week I was able to complete back to school shopping for son Kadir and so I am breathing easier.

When I go out each morning I usually hit the blood pressure kiosk at London Drugs to check things out but the great news is that my blood pressure/heart rate are now back to normal for the first time in several years.

I still carry my cane but at least until I get tired, I can mostly make my way carrying it under my arm, sort of like Fred Astaire heading out for a date with Ginger. Maybe there is slightly less spring in my step, but I’ve been told a top hat would not be entirely out of place!

It was the luck of the draw that when I went into the ER on August 13th, they told me my heart rate was irregular; fibrillation was the term they used. I was prescribed a beta blocker called Metoprolol while in hospital, as well as low dose aspirin. The Plendil I had been taking earlier this year did little to restore blood pressure to normal level and caused me bowel problems but the Metoprolol seems to be working. I take 50 mg twice a day and so far, so good.

I would like to thank all friends for their prayers and well wishes during a difficult period and for their active support. Also a huge THANK YOU to my co-workers for the lovely flowers and the beautiful get-well-soon card decorated with hand painted Echinacea blossoms and signed by so many there was no room left on the card.

For a guy who was told only a month ago that he might never walk normally again (when they were still talking stroke) I am counting my blessings.

The things we take for granted!!!