Today I want to write about something called "grit." I am eternally grateful that I inherited a certain amount of it from my father.
My dad had true grit. More than once in his life he was told he would never walk again. His reply to that pronouncement was "Just watch me."
And he did walk again - both times. I was privy only to the second when he lay on a hospital gurney covered in blood with every bone in his feet and legs smashed - not broken, mind you - smashed to smithereens. Those bones could not be set. He had just fallen from the top of the dome of the Ontario Legislature building to the marble floor below - feet first. He was skilled in gold leaf application and the scaffolding he was working from collapsed. When I rushed to the hospital in the middle of the night to visit him, his concern was more for my well being than for his own pain.
I could tell countless stories about his grit - how he always rose past pain or circumstances. At any rate, my own story is a minor kerfluffle in comparison. For the past couple of nights I haven't slept well because I did something to my shoulder. It hurts like hell and I keep trying for positions that east the pain. It's bad enough that it creeps up my neck and even gives me a darn headache.
But I went hiking this morning anyway and I'm so glad I did (this, I think, is where the grit comes in. I will not let a mere shoulder sideline me). The day could not have been more beautiful. The views from the ridges were wonderful. The dogs had a great time. I call it three hours of pure bliss. And now that I've spent some time in the garden and the back forty as well, I feel that I deserve to put my feet (and shoulder) up for the rest of the day. I've got a good book to read - what more can I ask for?
Thanks, dad, for passing on some of your grit.
Shoulders are bad joints. I fell off my bike a couple of years ago, and it was half a year before I could raise my arm to shoulder level, and only recently that I can reach for the sky without pain. Then I fell when I was on my roller blades in my living room. Put my arms back to catch myself and did something very bad to my shoulder. The pain was bearable during the day, with the help of aspirin, but I woke up in intense pain every morning for months. This has caused me to give up roller blading, but I'm not sure that's the right decision. My shoulder is fine again. Is giving up something I enjoy because I seem to injure myself more easily now just wimping out, or is it simply recognizing the changes that come with age. What's your opinion, Goody? Should I get back on those roller blades and pretend I'm still a teenager? Or is the pain and damage too high a price to pay for the illusion of youth?
ReplyDeleteWell David - I love hiking. I used to injure my knees badly hiking downhill. I kept going and kept on and kept on. Now it's been many years since my knees hurt. I can't imagine giving up something I love because I might injure my body. But that's me :)
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