11/28/2017

long walk

Sun out and temperature in the forties, I make my way to the river. My version of tramping over our property--though of course the Willamette belongs to no one and to all. My footgear the dear, old, sturdy Asics bequeathed me by Mom Hershiser.

In grateful fantasy I picture Mom H. mentioning, after she arrived on the other realm's doorstep, that if work could be found for me in a bookstore, it would sure help us out and I might stick with it.


Because of the job it's been a while since I walked the circuit from N. Howard Ave. to the Greenway pedestrian bridge near Valley River Center and back by way of the Owosso footbridge. My camera is ready. The point-and-shooter, now four years old, doesn't do close-ups the way I've seen others do and would like. But checking more powerful cameras remains only a pastime, at least until we've saved for a new roof, maybe helped the kids travel here next summer, paid for orthodontia. It'll be some time.

Approaching the river bike path, I debate whether I should spend moments on yet another picture of the first little unnamed bridge, as often as I've shot it in the past, as many times as my family has been subjected to the same old image on my traditional year-end slide show video. But the morning sunlight strikes the bridge's south side in fresh fashion, I'm entranced, and...wait. Grandson Edmund loves bridges! I now have a worthy objective.

Every long walk is a story, I have fancied, a story and a journey. Never has there failed to be a surprise. It's the same with life, with anything whispering beauty and some healing.

As you know we journeyed to Alaska on a cruise ship in May. One of the days of our week-long trip--Thursday, I believe--I was feeling pretty gross, pretty punk, my fibromyalgia in high gear. I rested in our stateroom while Tim skipped off to do everything he could that was listed on the ship's itinerary. He returned to tell me I simply had to come meet an alternative-medicine doctor on board who knew a good treatment for fibromyalgia.

Ugh. I did not wish to move. I refused, until Tim wore me down. Finally I followed him up to the work-out deck to get this meeting over with. The result was a discovery of the ketogenic diet, a way of eating based on fats and oils, best for people who have inflammation inside, something I already knew was part of my problem.

Viewing river sparkles this morning I reflect on the amazing timing of my (thanks to Tim's) "keto" discovery. Cutting out all grains and consuming a whole lot more fat, I lost ten pounds without trying. What a seeming contradiction. The main benefit, though, was relief from digestive pain and the accompanying weakness. I began to think maybe I could work somewhere...Then on  July 3rd an email from Windows Booksellers showed up. They needed help for at least three months...Since then, my walks have taken place between car and bookstore each weekday, toting my lunch and a book to read at break time. I still struggle with fibro pain, but it's more manageable. I could never have done this apart from our journey north or without the persistence of my husband.


On the other side of the river, past the mall's Black Friday parking lot engorged with vehicles, I'm directed by a smiling older woman to this morning's surprise. Atop one of the naked trees surrounding Delta Ponds sits a preening bald eagle, giving me a photo shoot equal to any I found in Alaska.

Heading on toward Owosso, I welcome tiny sprinkles from the dappled sky. Glances of sun soon reappear. My hips feel it, as they always do around five miles into my trek. I think the discomfort is less, however, than in times past. Possibly all the squats I do reaching for bottom shelf books at work have helped.

My three months plus at Windows has provided regular goals--mainly they have to do with putting online orders in the mail. Each day an unassuming man called Sparky takes the books with their shipping labels that I provide, packages them well, and gets them to the post office. I have the additional privilege of taking orders over the phone and meeting customers who venture in. Barely a day goes by without someone entering, eyes wide, remarking, "Wow. I never knew this place existed."

I'm glad it does. I'm grateful for journeys and stories amid the titles, the first editions, the faded spines and bumped corners, the near-pristine dust jackets professors handled with care until they retired.

Last week I responded to the e-mail of a minister, who's been living in Europe but would come home to the States this week and wondered if we could send a particular book so he could teach a class. It was Wednesday before the four-day weekend, we were busy, and I knew it must be quite late where he was. I wrote that if he could call us by noon PST, I could get the priority mail order book to his US address. Probably pretty sleepy, he called, and we shipped his order that day.

Other such stories span the currents of existence right now. I'd love to tell them all, but limits abound, as well. They're like the concrete and asphalt ribbons granting me passage between the trees. Slightly regretful, I tramp only the surest footpaths so I can return home and visit with loved ones and change shoes for long work days. When life rounds the next bend, as it ever will, I hope to pause and observe. Perhaps from a bare-limbed vantage I'll peer down, or in a thicket atop moldering leaves I'll take in some of those dreaming builders of bridges, fervent at their task.

6 comments:

Fresca said...

I am soooooo happy for you, Deanna, with your useful and enjoyable ongoing work and the relief of pain through a new way of eating, brought about by the wonderful Tim, and for your sense of Mom Hershiser's guidance from beyond.
(Loved once, loved forever.)

I'm also glad I can picture where you are, having taken that river walk with you... was it... 3 springs ago? Four? (I am bad at time.)

And now we enter Advent (in the Roman calendar)---as always, grace is walking toward us--perhaps we may feel it a little more in this season.

deanna said...

Thanks, Fresca. Maybe it was 2014 when you visited? Time gets away...
I love your "grace is walking toward us". Yes. We call this the time of preparing for the Nativity; ah, birth and being reborn (or resewn, like some of your neat projects). :)

gz said...

walking gives us so much, travelling at human speed instead of rushing.
I've heard of the ketogenic diet..a friend is trying to follow it, as she has non-epileptic fits (and a ghastly amount of stress) it helps her, when shecan stick to it.
Hi,via Fresca

deanna said...

Hi gz. Thanks! Yes, to the benefit of walking. I even get on my old treadmill sometimes, just to give my legs their needed, um, legwork. I hope your friend gets some relief in whatever good ways she can.

Dee said...

Dear Deanna, what a treat--to be gone from blogging for a few weeks and to return and find this lovely posting of yours. You are, I believe, one of the most reflective human beings I have ever met. I find myself so grateful that I've "met" you through blogging for your posts and your response to comments always guide me deeper into meditation over the path on which I'm traveling into and with Oneness. Thank you. Peace in this season of hope and expectation.

deanna said...

Thank you, Dee. May your journey of Peace continue, with help arriving when needed. I appreciate your thoughts in words.

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