I feel like I’ve taken a backseat to life lately. After a few months of cancellations, businesses closed, and being socially separated from most people that I know, I’ve found that the less I have to do, the longer it takes me to do it. I’m not as motivated as I normally am, and don’t spend as much time on a particular task.
I’ve always liked to power through projects. Start, persevere, and finish before the deadline, or at least by the deadline. Now, I find that two hours is about my limit for a couple of reasons. Typing or using a mouse triggers my trigger finger, carpal tunnel, and arthritis in my right hand. The second problem is that I have developed the attention span of a gnat. I’m easily distracted, or led astray, by the various activities that I need to accomplish during the day: volunteer work, conference calls, personal financial work, writing, housework, yard work…
Most days lately, I’ve felt my age. Up until recently, I thought age was only as old as you felt, and most of the time, I felt good. Oh, yeah, I had the occasional ache or pain, but mostly it was short lived.
Last week, I was a mess. During the endless yard work, I managed to get poison ivy from my wrists to my elbows. My left knee went from its usually achy self to screaming pain when I spent too long on my feet. I was miserable and out of sorts, impatient with others, and feeling just a little sorry for myself.
I made a rare trip to town for an appointment so I checked my post office box. I pulled out a few pieces of mail and noticed I had received a card. I opened it, and inside was what appeared to be a hand-decorated card. On the inside was a message “Remembering you in Prayer. Thinking of you!” It was from my church’s prayer ministry. So there it was—just what I needed when I needed it most.
Now that the state has opened up for business, many are breathing a sigh of relief and going about their activities as usual. Still, our most vulnerable people are still living life isolated and praying they don’t get Covid-19.
Long-term care facilities are still closed to outsiders. It’s sad to drive by the nursing homes where we played music and see empty parking lots. Isolation is hard on people who live in nursing homes. They miss their families, the entertainment, going on outings, and getting hugs from loved ones. It has to be heartbreaking for caregivers and families who can’t have in-person visits with the residents.
Well, life moves forward, and I need to move forward with it. Poison ivy clears up—eventually. It’s amazing what a difference the weather can make with the body aches and pains. I have an upcoming doctor’s appointment to have my knee checked out, and in the meantime, capsaicin patches and ibuprofen help. These setbacks are only temporary.
The calendar says I’ve gained a year, but my heart says I’ve gained a new lease on life. Better days are coming, just when I needed them most.
Copyright © June 2020 by L.S. Fisher