Win, Win, I´m winning
I´m winning because I´m trying
Walking through the pouring rain, carrying three bags of rubbish. My husband carries boxes. I have the bags of bottles, plastics, papers, cardboard. Too many bags.---- Can´t put my umbrella up.
OH! No, now the wind picks up pace and blows the rain into my face, keep walking, just keep walking.........
Three different types of rubbish for re-cycling Oh for the days when I could walk outside my gate, bright sunshine above me, Huge green container right in front of me, drop bottles in. Yellow container, blue one.....plop, plop plop.........recycling done.
Stroll back inside my gate and walk to my front door feeling the warmth of the sun on my arthritic back. Soothing heat.....
Finally arrive at nearest recycling plant , drop off everything so at last I can put up my umbrella. Say Áu Revoir´to my husband and continue my walk to the dentist.
Head down I step into the road to avoid a huge puddle....... swish....a car speeds past along the rain-soaked road and makes me even wetter.! Nobodies fault. Keep walking, hold umbrella lower, closer to my face to keep off the wind.
Tears well up in my eyes.
What am I doing here?
Why do recycling bins have to be so far from our house when we have no car?
How am I ever going to manage in the Winter?
winter so warm, not searing heat of Summer, just warm but snow on the mountain.
Mount Teide, the highest peak in Spain, seems to rise straight up from the ocean .
Travel 30 miles in your car but all uphill for about three miles to reach the snow.
Many people do,. Children play in it , dogs roll around in it. People throw snowballs , all at the same time as I´m hanging washing out on my patio in 70 degrees or more, down near the ocean.
Watch that enormous puddle ahead, nearly there to the dentist.
By the time I get inside a dry, warm waiting room, I´m fighting back tears again, stinging my eyes,
¨Behave, now grow up,, stiff upper lip.
The friendly receptionist hands me a form to fill in. Suddenly my mood changes completely......
.....changes to fear! My hands shake uncontrollablyas I pick up the pen. Deep breathes , Dim, slowly in through the nose and out through the mouth, deep breathes. BREATHE! will you?The shaking subsides as I wait my turn.
pink ribbons for cancer research, a dear friend who has recently had a mastectomy, My mind is now like a slide show...... hospital beds....... flowers........ coffins.....more coffins......Floods, not just rain, raging torrents of water.... people holding on to anything they can..... Water up to their necks... Their homes washed away , family members dead. Washed away..........
My feet are wet , the bottom of my trousers stick to my skin. Poor me! How awful to be caught in the rain.
I hear a voice from behind ¨ok! Who´s the next lamb for the slaughter?¨
Oh Please! That may be funny to some, but I´m as scared of the dentist as I was as a child.
In I go observing the dreaded chair, The kindest man possible is talking to me. He´s gentle as he assesses the problem inside my mouth. Thank goodness he´s treating me like a four year old. I need it.!
¨See you on the 14th Mrs F...¨
¨Thank you, bye.....¨
Back out into the rain. How can it possibly be heavier, but it is. People standing in doorways till it eases off. I keep on walking, want to get home even though the rain is lashing against me.Poor me, poor me........
Those people again the fast moving, dirty water up to their necks.
Who do I think I am? Cousin Wersoff?... WHO?....O ¨Hello, it´s my other self come to visit in my mind¨ ,........You must remember cousin wersoff, cartoon strip in newspaper.... years ago called The Perishers??!!!
Ö yes I remember The Perishers, cartoon children, they had a dog, can´t remember names though..........
¨NEVER MIND NAMES!! shouts my other self, just remember cousin wersoff. All the other children dreaded his arrival, because if you had a grazed knee, then he´d have surgery scheduled for amputation of a limb.
If your mum had a headache, then his mum had a brain tumour....
He always had to be worse off than everyone else....remember cousin wersoff?
¨But that´s not me. It can´t be.!¨
No Exactly!!!. Don´t let it happen...don´t slide into cousin wersoff mode when you know what a blessed life you have. A lovely home, a husband who still loves you after 42 years???Need I go on?.......
Dear friends husbands, wives gone,..........coffins again....widows. widowers....
Reality hits back hard,. I have so much. This time the tears that sting my eyes are tears of shame.
I´m not cousin wersoff. It´s not in my make-up.
I climb up the hill,nearly home as the rain becomes lighter, Sun starts to peek through. I enter my apartment to the smell of something wonderful cooking.
cooking therapy. That´s my husband. Better than retail therapy. How lucky I am. He´s happy to see me, wants to know what the dentist had to say......I burst into tears..¨My feet are wet¨.....................
Into the dining room I walk straight up to the window seat becauise the sun is coming through now,. I sit still for a while with the sun on my back through the glass
Familiar feeling. Feel cosy again, feeling less pain.
Put trousers to dry and slip on a long flowing skirt. There sit a while more.Silly me. silly me. My long hippy skirt, and my long hippy hair. This is me. Age doesn´t matter. This is me.
I´m finding it hard to adjust to my new life but I´m not cousin wersoff. I mustn´t complain. It WAS only rain. ¨No¨says the other me inside my head. It´s fear! You´re always the same. Fear of the dentist. You don´t even realise how much it still scares you!¨
¨You could be right I think to myself¨I ´m in no mood for an argument inside my own head.
ÖÖPS! Now I know the smell of the cooking. It´s not husband´s therapy... we have a dinner party tonight.!!!I´d better get everything ready, set the table......ah! notice through the window, beautiful flowers. I should go collect an armful, now before it rains again.
An elderly lady at the side of the road, selling posies of violets, looking so weatherbeaten. I wonder how/where she is now? Does she have a family or even a home?
She´s cousin wersoff , not me. Can´t I see?
A few moments longer in my lovely window seat thinking of how to be ¨Me¨again. If I can become the positive, helpful person I used to be. I´ll be so much happier.
There really is more happiness in giving than to receive. My skirt is a start. Who cares if I´m 60 and love hippy clothes?If it makes me feel young. If it makes me feel good.It´s the 1st Step!!!
Step no.2 I must call on my 83 year old neighbour who lives alone. Don´t even know her name , but I know she´s alone. ...Does she need anything next time I go out....!!!
I can win!
I am winning!
I am winning because I am trying.