Got-Toe-Motty, I Ain't Dead And Neither is the Dogwood!

Wonders never cease. It is Saturday, a beautiful spring-like day in Augusta. Sadie is chasing bugs along the banister of the screened porch and I am admiring our oldest dogwood with its narrow blaze of white blossoms. I did not think it would make it through the winter and much of it didn't. But fooled me otherwise. It's got one more summer to go, at least. I'm thinking I have that at minimum, and folks, I was not so sure two weeks ago. And the best news (at least for me), I have been truly hungry today. Nice step ahead, what? Did my exercises (in bed) and took a short walk with Alex (about half-a-block) but made it just fine. Still got a ways to go to get out this crisis, but feel more like a living person today than I have in months, but its all by comparison.

Do you remember when you were a little kid and would see some old person hobbling on a cane or riding in a wheel chair. Back then they were mostly older ladies, bent and twisted like that dogwood, seeming three-quarters dead  and one-quarter not much caring otherwise. And there was the hobbling old man in that famous nursery song, always drawn with big ears, a long nose, slumped over a cane but still had enough in him to play knick-knack on his bones. Through my young eyes, those folks had reached a place in life worse than death. Just plain out of it, but able to see life, feel life, experience a parade they were once in march of by. Kinda there today myself. It ain't good, especially at 62 when I am supposed to be just entering my second round of forties, but you takes the hand you're dealt. I'm not stooped, but I weigh less than 145 pounds, my arms are thin as rooster legs, my legs wobbly just a few seconds after I stand. Like it or not, we had to install some toilet assistance so I can stand when my business is done.

Since I also smoke a pipe (perhaps the deign of my life, but God I love it) I can imagine how the kids in the neighborhood see me: much as I saw those ancients of my past. Used up, passing time to the grave and not a lot of time at that.  Or as one of the neighborhood young'uns said to me other day: "Mr. Foster, you ain't doin' so good are you?"

I was out on the front stoop, enjoying a little sunshine just after being released from the hospital. I said, "Oh, I'm doing all right." Then I thrust out a skinny hand and asked, "Now, can you help me up." He did, but the sadness in his eyes was deep and real. To this young fellow of maybe 14, Mr. Foster was everything he never wanted to be, the embodiment of the monster under the bed. For me, well it was good to feel his strong arm around my withered one, to experience, if only for a second, his youth and vitality; the goodness in him for helping the "sick man" up.

But that experience was part of life, not watching life go by. Just to see the caring and to feel the helping hand was about as much real life as any one can experience on any day. I walked to the back porch and saw the dogwood blooming and thought with a smile, "by golly there are two of us." It and I will remain living friends for a while now. What a boost. A very nice young man and the blossoms on an ancient dogwood tree. We came together during the worst week of my life. Can't say I was born again or anything so dramatic, but it was like sipping at the finest spring in the world's best oasis.

Comments

[Bernadette Carpma]

David i have enjoyed following your great stories. Hope to be able to read more soon. Get as much rest as you can (in the hospital???) and hope that you can return home soon. Wishing you a speedy recovery.
Regards
Bernadette Carona
wife of husband Renal Cell Cancer

[Ellen & Richard Johnson]

David, we are missing you a lot. We worry about you when we don't hear for this long. We will keep the prayers coming. We just want to know your taking it easy and taking care of yourself.

[Ken Marsh]

David -- There's a lot of life in a man who writes as eloquently as you still do. Particularly poignant and insightful is:

"To this young fellow of maybe 14, Mr. Foster was everything he never wanted to be, the embodiment of the monster under the bed. For me, well it was good to feel his strong arm around my withered one, to experience, if only for a second, his youth and vitality; the goodness in him for helping the 'sick man' up."

Springtime's arriving here in Alaska on the wings of songbirds and in a long, tall sun. Funny, David, I was just thinking this morning myself about how it is possible to reach a certain age where you fear springtime will never come again. Somehow, though, it always does. And when it does, it is as bright and warm and golden and full of hope and opportunity as ever.

Yeah, everything's relative. But ain't nuthin' over 'til it's over.

Get out there now (if I may kindly order you around) and enjoy that sunshine, that dogwood, and your pipe.

Your friend always,
km

[Wanda in North Carolina]

Hi David, I am so glad that you are able to be up and about again. Your writing touches my heart and soul. I have been thinking about you and I have prayed for you. The weather in the North Carolina is just beautiful. It does your soul good to be able to see the spring coming, I expect the flowers are already blooming in Georgia, and just like the old dogwood you have made it to another season. Steve and I talked about the same thing the other day. He is a 10 year survivor of RCC and it's one of life's mysteries of why he has made it this long. We are just grateful. Have a good day, and may God Bless. Tell your wife I have been praying for her also.

[Manuel Lopez]

In his book, "A Salty Piece of Land," Jimmy Buffett wrote eloquently about getting older.

He said, "If we're lucky, we can hang on to a piece of our childhood forever. The soft feel of a favorite blanket or a teddy bear; the look on the face of your first puppy; the sound of the music played by the ice cream truck. If we are lucky, these are the kinds of memories that keep us from growing old too fast."

Dave, if you're like most men, the teenager inside that 62 year old body still manages to burst forth now and then. And that can be a good thing.

[Sharon in Vernonia, Oregon]

My father-in-law, age 74 had one Kidney removed this week. Stage IV with 2 tumors on lung. Researching treatments for him I found your journal.

You are a wonderful writer and I thank you for sharing your story. You have given my family a truly wonderful gift.

Thank you so much, stay strong!

Sharon

[Mary]

Well David if Easter is a time of renewal of faith than you faith in all that is good is certainly renewed. I for one am so glad you are back on the road to recovery. Have a wonderful and blessed Easter. May you be filled with strength from the young man who helped you. We count our blessings where we find them. Happy Easter to the Foster Family from the Mazerolle Family.