To sit or stand. . .

I recently had a conversation with my grandmother's sister (my great aunt?), Shirley. We sat in my grandmother's living room and discussed Shirley's recent short-term stay in a nursing home. Although she is relatively healthy and independent, aunt Shirley was involved in a car accident that required her to spend a short time recovering in the assisted living facility. She is fine now and absolutely full of life. She is my grandmother's best friend. I love to watch the two of them together as they laugh, reminisce, and shout across the room into each other's hearing aides. If I grow old, I truly hope that I grow old as these two have. Although their memories are fading and they may talk about the same topics over and over again at one sitting, they are completely happy. They love each other, and they love their families.

In my visit, aunt Shirley talked about a woman at the nursing home who decided to give up walking one day. "She just asked for a wheelchair because she was tired." "I told her that she would never go back, but she wouldn't listen." Walking must have become a chore for this woman (probably a common occurrence in the nursing home). But, this woman thought she would just take a break from it for awhile. She sat down in the wheelchair - never to walk again. She gave up her ability to walk. She gave in. I've never thought about this transition before. My perspective has always been that wheelchairs are for people who instantly need them - a man paralyzed by an accident or debilitating disease. But for some, it is not an instant occurrence -- it is a decision they must make over time. And some people actually choose the "easier way." Aunt Shirley told me that it may seem easier to sit all of the time, but you give up the freedom to walk. Certainly, I cannot yet identify with this choice to sit -- I have no idea what it feels like to deal with intense pain just from walking across the house, or to be required to muster every ounce of strength to stand up. I don't know how I would respond to these factors, but I hope I always choose to walk while I still have the choice.

Aunt Shirley's story must have a connection to the spiritual world as well. That will have to be another post -- as always, comments are welcome.