In the first summer I spent with Mom, every activity we would discover worked for both of us was another eureka moment. Perhaps, however, as I needed to slow down my own vibrations to take on the running of this home for us and two cats, there was no greater shot in the can-do arm than finding how much joy Mom got from going to parks in general, and Deer Lake in particular. There is a bus that runs from only a block away from here to just outside of the park boundary. We still do this as often as possible; As I write this in March 2018 I am watching the mud closely to see when it dries enough that a wheelchair will not get stuck on any path.
Pack a lunch and take your own portable chair and voila! A day that doesn’t feel like working for your mother, but hanging out with her doing something more than simply pleasant for both of you. The setting described below has been repeated more often that we can count. This, of course, is both by design and a survival strategy.
September 7, 2015
A normal Monday now involves mom going to a day program and myself doing life affirming things for the duration, but today is a holiday and her day program is off. Starting today nice and slowly, french toast and a slow, lazy cup of tea. Now the weather has cooled to the point it is still very much summer but the work of pushing a wheelchair does not incapacitate. Near perfect for Donna and myself, soon we will take a little picnic and a bag of healthy bird food in the backpack and go for a lovely walk around Deer Lake to see the lake, feel the sun, smell the cleanest air in a city we can, enjoy the glistens off the waters and re-acquaint ourselves with various gregarious and hungry waterfowl that have yet to fly South.
It will be a good day for mom and son. Sandwiches packed, cats told they are not to fight and that we will return in the cooler evening. A good day, full of slow, relaxed walking, breathing and wandering thoughts.