My wife and I don’t sit still well. Our usual routine at the end of a day is to go for a walk at either the nearby forest preserve or Silver Springs State Park, five miles from our house. This past summer was so repressively hot that our usual walks were minimal. We tried a few times, but came back so soaking wet from sweat that we called off our daily hikes.
When the heat finally broke come September, my wife had much needed rotator cuff surgery. This left her in a sling for a month and beyond uncomfortable. The sling is now off, but her left arm hangs by her side like it’s dead. The discomfort hasn’t abated much and every day I hear… just cut my arm off at the shoulder.
I also hear every day how she’s going insane, climbing the walls. She still does more than I think she should, but I’ve been through enough surgeries with her to know that she’ll always push a little harder than normal. We both figure, what the hell. In the seven years I’ve known her she’s died on me twice and come close twice more. So she pushes herself a little hard, what’s it going to do? Kill her?
Sure doesn’t seem that way.
Today it was nice out there. Near 80 degrees, so unusual for this time of year. I had the day off and she’s been pacing, like usual.
“Let’s go for a walk, I’ll be alright, I’ll wear my sling.”
I don’t argue anymore.
First thing we noticed when we got out of the car at Silver Springs was the smell. Decomposing earth, leaves, the smell of… dirt, moist dirt. There was a good wind coming from the south, directly across the lake. I knew it wasn’t the lake. It’s spring fed and it’s shores are pretty much devoid of trees. But on it’s south side are two long shallow ponds. One whole side of each is nothing but trees. This had to be the origins of the smell. It wafted over us on the wind. Strong, pungent, refreshing in a way though it is the smell of rotting things.
The ponds on the south shore were the source. The usual clear ponds had that tannin stain to them. Leaves thick on the bottom, more floating on top and not a ripple on the water from the wind. The high bluff on the opposite shore allowed no wind. An odd perfume of decaying matter was thick in the still air. I couldn’t get enough.
Toward the end of our walk I get asked, “are you warm?”
No, but I reach over and touch her face. Cool, clammy, wet and her eyes have a slight look of concern. That’s never a good look.
“I have to sit down, this is too much. I don’t feel good.”
Not words I like to hear and again that look in her eyes. She pushed herself too far, I knew that would happen, but I have to let her.
Apparently I have a look. One of concern, an overwhelming sadness. I’m unaware of it. She says I only show it to a few people and only a few people can bring that look to my face.
She looks at me.
“I’m not going to die on you.”
It’s not like you haven’t tried now, have you.
bob france
24 Oct 2012That’s why we cherrish these days and every moment we have together…
My motto: Every morning when I wake up I thank G-d. One morning when I don’t wake up Ill thank him in person…
bob
24 Oct 2012yes…absolutely.
Jim McClellan
24 Oct 2012What a nice read. It looks like a beautiful place to spend time together, despite the bum arm.
walt franklin
25 Oct 2012Nice photos reflect some beautiful weather at this time of year. Glad that both of you are getting out to enjoy it despite the pinch of bone and body!
Ken G
25 Oct 2012Bob F., if some morning I don’t wake up I”m afraid I’ll be met by an alien, that looks like a cockroach. Really, millions of years of evolution, traveling across space and time and the best you can do is a cockroach?
Jim and Walt, the place is a real mix of land types. The Fox River, small lakes, woods, hills and lots of open land for the put and take pheasant hunting. Makes for a lot of walking.
Sure enough, last night we’re sitting out in front, beautiful night… “just cut my arm off.” She wants to be better, now. She’s not known for her patience.
Howard Levett
25 Oct 2012I think I understand now what your problem was awhile back. Oppressive heat drains every part of your body. Welcome back.
Ken G
25 Oct 2012Howard, the hiatus was much needed, still is, but I need to get off my hands. Little at a time. As you know my friend Dave died over the summer. I’ve been using that as an excuse to have my own pity party. Last couple of weeks I’ve read some of his things, read a couple of email we traded about writing. I have no excuses anymore. The marine in him would stomp on my ass for being such a slacker.