One day in the Future

My son and I talk on Sundays. My oldest son, that is. This has become a ritual since March of last year. I think we started it the weekend of the 'lockdown'. He is able to work from home and has been practicing masking and social distancing. 

I can't fathom how difficult it must be for him as he is a very social creature. Yet he perseveres with caution. He has gone to limited workouts at his CrossFit gym and has a small 'bubble' of friends that he does things with. 

He is a constant source of common sense for me. He also likes to give me grief and joke with me. 

He pulls no punches. This year he asked what did I intend to do in the future when Rich was no longer here? Would it make sense to hang onto the farm and all that it entails as I creep towards 'older' age? Did I really want to maintain pastures, gardens, and plow out the driveway? Depend on the help of others?

What would happen when I couldn't drive anymore? Of course I laughed and said that I expected him to tell me when he thought that I'd reached that point. 

"Okay mom, I'm coming for the keys." He responded. 

Harrumph. 
But he had a point. No taxis are in this rural area. I couldn't be asking neighbors to take me shopping now could I? I know it was a huge pain to take half a day to drive my mother in law around and pull out her walker and act as her spotter when she got tipping one way or the other. Grocery shopping with her had to be done, but she insisted on doing it herself. It took over an hour just to get 15 items. Afterwards, she wanted to 'do' lunch. Eventually we'd make it back to her apartment and she'd collapse in her easy chair and direct me on putting her things away.

Next she'd ask me to do dishes and make her bed. Please don't think I am cruel, but I was chomping at the bit. Rich was my full time care partner. He needed me too. He'd just had recovered from cancer treatment, a stroke, and Pulmonary Emboli. 

I fell into the caregiving category because MIL's family were too busy, too far away, or whatever else they had for reasons.

Ed said to me. "Don't think I'll be driving out there once a week to check up on you mom." He then proposed a future.

Eventually sell the place and move back to his home town. Use the farm proceeds to purchase a condo near the lakefront. I actually liked that idea. There are bus routes and bike/walking trails all over. Uber is available for rides. If I couldn't drive [my father went blind with macular degeneration] I could still get around. Since I am familiar with the area, I know there are miles and miles of beautiful trails to explore. 

Not the forest though. It is not the forest. There is the big question. Give up my forest rambling? Hours by the creek? 
And yet, I could be free to travel if I wished provided I had no farm to hold me down. I could drive places and camp. Something that has always been on my list.

My son pointed out that at least I'd be in the same town as he was. And yes he could check on me easier. 

I'm grateful for Ed and his logical mind. Yes, I'd make the change, eventually. I love this house and it is nearly maintenance free. 

I also know that I am adaptable. I've lived in Skokie, Illinois. I've lived in Kenosha County. I've lived in apartments and crappy houses. I've lived all over and seemed to always adapt quickly.

I have to be realistic. There will be a day when I can't handle all of this on my own no matter how much I work out and stay healthy. 

Rich and I talked to Ed about this and Rich thinks it is a great idea. He doesn't want to see me alone in the world without family nearby. 

I saw first hand with my MIL, the true shortcomings of help in the rural area. No transport or limited transport. Helping Hands was always stretched thin. It was a struggle to get her extra help even with the county involved. 

I've been through this with my FIL, my MIL, and Rich. Without a person willing to do everything the elderly in our area are lost.

One of my neighbors gives up time each week to go to an elder's house to help them. Good people are out there. 

One day in the future I'll be shutting the porch door behind me permanently. That only makes every day here in the NOW more important.

What if?

If you follow what I write, you will know that I do a lot of solo things. I solo ride, solo hike, snowshoe, ski, and generally do many things by myself.

Now don't feel badly for me. It is fine. I like my adventures, it is something I just have to do. I've been doing this for over 20 years.

Charlie gave me the 'look' yesterday when I got dressed to go see what the 'flash freeze' and -18F temps did to our creek. The temperature was mild and the radical swing to 30F was well...welcoming.

Charlie was a bit tentative at first, but he is learning the difference between thin ice and thick ice.

Here he is walking on wet ice but obviously with a purpose in mind.

Charlie was 'in charge' of course, he is now a hiker dog that is familiar with the walks we take together. He surges ahead and is now even starting to hang around when I stop to take photos or look at something.
Treats keep him close.
That and the collar which was turned off.

Charlie stands and waits for me to get around this tangle of downed trees. I have to wonder what things he can sniff out. His nose is always busy.

As we headed downstream the water was no longer frozen as the morning sunlight and multiple springs kept it open.

Charlie eventually led a way down a trail next to a creek crossing that I am not fond of. I hollered to him to 'come' and then he just stared at me as if I were an idiot.

Oh heck, why not? I'd just be careful after all most everything is frozen and that slippery muddy spot should be fine, right?

Under the 8 inches of snow was slime mud. I was fine until I lost footing and kneeled to catch myself.
The snow covered a nice hard boulder. And my knee connected with it.

I sat in the snow and howled. Charlie stood across the creek and stared at me. He wasn't too concerned.
I cursed the 4 wheeler dudes who had mucked this crossing up...sat and sat...waiting to see if something would happen to the stars flashing before my eyes.
I tucked my head down and concentrated on breathing.

Slowly I stood up and looked around.
Did anybody see that?
Charlie.
He was not impressed.

I wiggled my leg and though it hurt I could move.
It didn't feel like it was bleeding but I was pretty sure that I was going to have a nice bruise of some kind.

"Charlie, that was not a good choice," I remarked and heaved my foot up and out of the muck and snow.
I picked my way carefully around the creek crossing and walked towards the 4 wheeler trail that I knew was pretty solid.
Tsk, tsk, I thought to myself. I can move, but it sort of hurts!

I paused. I was in the valley and trying to scrabble UP hill and across the fields were going to be tough and agonizing.

"Well Mr. Charlie, let's take the easiest trail home, right?"
Charlie trotted up and begged for a treat.
I gave him one.
Good boy.

And then I followed my little dog carefully and slowly enjoying the bird song and the beautiful shadows of the woods.

Despite the ache and bad footing, I went slowly and enjoyed the outing anyway.

Once a friend of mine had asked why I hiked solo and I quipped back, "Am I to wait for someone to go with all of the time? No, I go. I've really been very safe for many years."

"What if you get hurt?"

Indeed, what if?
But if I never go, I will never discover things and enjoy the bright white snow and shadows.
Or the pleasure of having my faithful tiny dog lead me home.