Travel

I recently finished my first half-marathon, a 13.1-mile trial of discipline and perseverance. Unlike my past rollercoaster rides of inactivity followed by bursts of overachieving, this was a respectable, incremental effort of kinder steps followed by an event completed without needing four day’s rest. I will, however, admit to experiencing a migraine requiring meds and a nap later the same afternoon. And, yes, according to the data from my fitness tracker, I still overachieved, but far less than the usual gross negligence of my physical wellbeing. I still have work to do. Fitness is a process and the discipline required to stay fit never ends. So, how do I persevere? Baby steps.

Another dose of caffeine seeps into my bloodstream while my teenage chauffeur drives. Heading home from a two-week, five-state college tour blitz with my twin daughters, I feel the road weariness, the bloat from vacation dining, and the weight of parental concern for two young ladies leaving the nest …

“Are you EVEN kidding me?!,” I annoyingly ask out loud to the flat round screen on my wrist. Having just completed a two-hour sweat fest, I feel as though my efforts have gone somewhat unnoticed by this feisty fitness “friend.” Based on the data she has collected, her smug determination that I have merely maintained my fitness, and not improved it, tweaks my ire. Rolling my eyes, I cave to her assessment, vowing to train a tad smarter with the next workout …

With reverence for this weekend that remembers so many lost, each pilgrimage to this part of America’s heartland starts with this foremost habit of paying our respects and reconnecting the dots of our past …

We stand vigil around Mom’s hospital bed sporting matching yellow isolation gowns and masks. Our humorous spectacle as a banana bunch offers the dichotomy of levity and the gravity of life’s potential end. As family of humor seekers, laughter, as well as respect, has been part and parcel of our DNA through all our earthly trials, even death.

My husband and I celebrated our fully vaccinated status in grand style with another vaccinated couple: one of the first dinners outside the confines of our home since the start of the pandemic. To begin the festivities, our hosts proposed a toast to this milestone that would be best enjoyed “on the boat.”

My mother guides us to our airport gate, my 5-year old hand warm and safe in her firm grasp. Hallways and doorways appear as an endless, towering maze to my low-to-the-ground wide eyes. I marvel at how Mom knows where to go. Affable smiles from passers-by are reciprocated with Mom’s knowing winks.