Becoming less...

Perhaps it was the stress. Perhaps it was the disruption to schedule. Whatever the reason, I have gained back quite a few pounds this year and it is time to do something about it. That becomes essential when I remember I am considering an Ultramarathon in February. Between now and then, I have to dedicate myself to that process. Over the last 2 months, I have worked on my swimming technique till now I feel very confident swimming freestyle. My shoulders are stronger. I was doing some really good technique for breathing while in Florida last week. Swimming in the ocean is much easier than swimming in freshwater. So today was my first day of returning to my eating program. Tomorrow will be riding with perhaps a swim if Paul calls. Then more abdominal exercise.

A profound quiet...

I've gone through my life quietly, probably a result of my early training. My Grandmother Odessa shared her Native American perspective of the natural world with me. In it, people lived with the land. You could only experience the fullness of nature if you learned to be stealthy, invisible, and quiet. I practiced my art hiding along the trail to her house. Sometimes I was hidden so completely, I could have touched her from my hiding place yet remained undetected. From there, my Dad helped develop in me the skills of a hunter. He taught me how to hold myself in close control. Not to sneeze or cough. How to place each footstep so no twig broke and leaves didn't crunch. How to use natural sounds to mask my movement. It taught me that quiet is valuable. I spent a lot of time in solitude with only my thoughts as company. I learned to be quiet in speech.I often had little to say unless in the presence of my most intimate friends. I spoke softly.  I listened to my own internal dialogue. But despite that quiet, there were always voices. Voices of the people who loved me, protected me, and nurtured me. And over the time of my life, one by one, these voices have been silenced. I remember when my Great Grandmother Lona died. My Dad consoled me by saying it was the way of things. The oldest generation precedes the younger. Or at least that's how we believe it should be. Then it was my Grandparents who passed. Then as if to defy the order of things, we lost David and my Father. We lost Rachel, the first of we 10 cousins. My dear Aunt Vester. After a long season, it was my Uncle Jack's time. And shortly after, our Aunt Fay. Then Uncle Jean. My Uncle's voice was so important to me because of the closeness he had with my Mom. With him gone, the loss was most noticeable because with Mother being almost a shut in, his calls and visits meant the world. She missed him very much.  Now, this month, the most significant voice of my life was silenced. And I must say, the quiet is profound. I think sometimes, my ear strains a bit, without conscious effort, to pick up the sound of a voice or a noise. But the quiet persists.

But I am not depressed or dismayed. Those sounds may be gone but there are new sounds to be heard. Our little children have grown up. Some have found mates. Children are born. With time we get to reconnect with old friends and make new ones. I have the voices of Max and David. Becky has little Challis. There will be others to come.

You see, life is like a symphony. Each instrument adds its note in time. And when the piece is played, the instrument is stilled and there is quiet. It is a powerful and joyful thing. Something to celebrate.

Mom

On July 8th 2010, my Mom passed away. I was due to arrive at the hospital within 15 to 20 minutes. But by all the accounts, she had a pretty good morning and she passed easily. All our family gathered including my cousins from South Carolina, D.C., and Washington State. Many friends and co-workers came by to pay respect and love. My cousin Joe Castleberry delivered her eulogy. We will all miss her so much.

Heart attack...

Mom had a heart attack on the 25th of June. Since then, I've been mostly here at UAB. Despite not having any prior symptoms that would have warned us of advancing heart disease, she had 3 vessels with 90 to 95 percent blockage. And significant blockage along the length of each artery. The only artery they could stent wasn't the one where the damage occurred.