Dog Tales

This weekend was for the dogs. They had fun; I didn't. I intended to work on my novel and have it finished by Monday. Saturday morning, my wife and I decided to kick-start the day with a fun run for our dogs, then we'd busy ourselves tackling our goals. She'd clean the house, and I'd write. We decided to take our dogs to Dog Park. Dog Park is like heaven on earth for dogs. Canines come from everywhere to run, swim, and smell each other's butts. My wife leashed our three dogs while Mom climbed in the car. Everything was fine until my mother tried to sit down. Her attempt to seat herself failed, and she fell out of the car, landing on her back. I jumped out of the driver's seat and ran to the other side. There she lay, stretched out on the driveway, staring at the clear blue sky. With my wife's help, we lifted Mom to her feet. She couldn't walk because her knee hurt, but otherwise felt fine. After we arrived at the park, I helped her hobble to a bench. She had to sit down and watch the dogs from a distance.

Later, her knee still hurt, so we drove to an urgent care facility. The doctor thought her knee was sprained or fractured. She showed me the X-ray and said she wasn't sure about the fracture part. We'd have to wait a few days for the radiologist to make that determination. Meanwhile, someone had to stay with Mom twenty-four hours a day to assist her. My wife and I could manage the weekend, but what about during the work week? I looked to my kids for their assistance and they jumped at the opportunity. Offering them money also helped. Somehow, my wife and I got through the weekend, tired, yet showing few scars. Watching your mother sounds easy, but it's not. It's a draining experience. Mothers who taught their children how to take their first steps, aren't very good at listening to their adult children tell them how to walk. Our talking was bold, imaginative and incessant: "You're not supposed to walk without your walker;" "the doctor said to stay off your knees;" "you need to eat more food;" "why didn't you ask for help?" When we'd catch Mom walking on her own, she'd smile at us. That's her way of letting us know who's boss. Needless to say, it's Monday morning and my wife and I are whipped. I'll let you know how this progresses. As for my plans to finish my novel? Catching up on sleep sounds better.

Until later.

Between Two Worlds

My mind's swirling. Two of my children graduated, one from high school and the other, college. There's little time for me to take it all in. I wish life would slow down, so I could stop to savor important events. Instead, the weekends race by, Monday shows up, and it's time for work again. My schedule's too hectic, and there' s little time to reflect; only enough time to wish for more.

Nevertheless, I feel fortunate to have good memories to hold and cherish. My kids won't always be with me, and their recent graduations reminded me of that fact. When they were little, they looked forward to "special time." I'd take them on day trips, to the movies, or we'd eat desserts. Being at their graduation was just as special for me.

Until later.

How to be a Dork

Today I woke up at the crack of dawn and decided to get in a morning run. I drove to the fitness center, laced up my running shoes and set out the door for a five mile loop. The morning air was fresh, and a pleasant breeze coursed over my hair.

Then it happened. As I was making my way down a tree-lined road, someone shouted from a passing car, "HEY, DORK!" It took a few seconds for the words to register. I didn't like being the target of a joke. Besides, it was early morning and not a time to be humorous. I channeled my anger into faster running. At the finish I checked out my watch and noticed I had a fast run. At least my time was good.

Until later.