A Pot of Promise Grows: No Whining

Life lesson: Pots of Promise may grow from unexpected sources.

One of my Pots of Promise has developed buds. It is going to bloom. The realization hit me by surprise. I found myself watching a softball game. My other major passion, reading, has made no sign of re-entry.

I haven’t been interested in TV for several years. It had waned during the last years of my wife’s life, until I rarely paid attention to the screen. I watched the political shenanigans with disgust. I lost sight of the series heroes and heroines. I didn’t realize the news channels had deteriorated into programs, where the majority of the screen time is commercials, not just paid commercials, but commercials within the news programs themselves.

I had discovered a program of interest. It filmed big trucks being rescued after turning over or being stuck. It caught my attention because it was real. Big semi-trucks off the road, turned over, cargo spewed everywhere. The math and physics involved in rescues was awesome. It reminded me of high school classes in trigonometry and physics, life choices, which I had gratefully not pursued. Cables and winches had to be critically determined or disaster could result, not only to the trucks, but to the rescue personnel involved. There was an endless stream of trucks needing rescue. This transportation mode to feed and supply our country is not just a critical service, but a potentially dangerous job.

The softball game and subsequent games distracted me. I hadn’t had as frequent or severe grieving episodes since migrating to my summer home. This provided more distancing. The discovery gave me hope. Maybe, and most likely, I was going to re-enter life and not live in despair forever. It provided a sense of wonder and lightness.

I played sports for as long as I can remember. I “borrowed” a glove from a local clubhouse. They weren’t really happy to see the pocket had expanded to softball size. I earned enough money to buy a basketball. I wasn’t that outstanding an athlete, but I never rode the bench. I held my positions, whatever they turned out to be.

At this point in my life, I realize I may no longer be able to hold my position. I may have to pass on some activities. The realization creates sadness in me, but physical limitations are real. My mobility disorder limits me to careful, pre planned movement. I can walk after I stand up and equalize, but don’t travel a straight path.

I am old, chronically, but age is in the mind. I figure I have 10 more fully-functional years with my limitations. I assume too much responsibility sometimes, but not when it comes to doing my share or fulfilling my duties.

It is what it is. Challenges present themselves throughout life. It is our choice to confront them or evade them. I continue to want to re-enter life. Now it is a different life than I ever would have imagined.

Back to the softball games. My wife and I had enjoyed following the national tournament for years. She was an accomplished athlete, and probably experienced the plays on a different plane than me, but I had made some memorable plays in my day, adjusted skills divisions.

It is not surprising the TV provided the emerging Pot of Promise. The majority of my time is spent with my dog and tortoise. The TV is the fourth constant in my life. It mainly provides noise, weather and mayhem from the day before. I am not a people person to begin with, so this is not devastating. I interact with the other dog walkers and go out for lunch with friends. I realize I have to settle into a very-much altered life, even when I can fully re-emerge.

I cherish my followers who have joined me in my journey. We will discover what our lives will be in the future.

Let me know how you are doing. I care.

Sincerely,

Lynn Brooke

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Photo Credit: © 2023 Rachel Gareau