Old Bones & Work Still To Be Done

My dear friend, Tricia, a rock of good sense and straightforwardness, of going directly to the point and refusing to compromise on truth or clarity, of believing in her own worth and ability, of independence, free will and loyalty, is in pain all the time. Her body is in a revolt of fibromyalgia, the residue of cancer, fatigue, and her old bones are saying Not no, but hell no. A lesser woman might retreat, might decide that enough was enough, might say no more and choose to stay in bed. A lesser woman might decide she's fought past the point of winning but not Tricia, not when there's still work to be done.

My cousin Linda, forced into early retirement and having spent all her life in a raging battle against an enemy in her very blood, could well have thought the same. Instead she writes, volunteers, cares for an aging parent, cooks, knits, and despite the still regular blood tranfusions and hours spent in emergency rooms, goes to church and keeps working for the community and the cause of gender fairness. She could let others carry the burden, could easily devote more time to herself, but for Linda, the fight isn't over and there's still work to be done.

My old bones have been far more kind to me and I've accomplished a good deal less.

In the relatively few and far between moments that I have for quiet reflection - mostly in the early morning dark, mostly with the animals peacefully sleeping and mostly at this keyboard - I consider life and adversity and the various and sundry things that keep us sustained and keep us going when it would be so much easier to hit the pause button.
Music, partners, children, the need to keep bills current, a love of life, self esteem or the lack of it, ambition, hope or sometimes just plain stubborness all factor in but mainly I think it's habit. We get used to living and have trouble imagining an alternative, nothingness being something that we can't quite grasp. For the most part, we are curious creatures, filled with odd combinations of emotions, seeking answers to questions we're not even sure of, rarely content with the status quo. There is always another corner to be turned, another chore to be completed, another success or failure to be had. The habit of living is learned early and it stays with us. Old bones or not, there are still expectations to be met and there will always be work still to be done. We will get done as much as we can and it will either be enough or not - the reality is that it's not really in our hands to begin or end with.

So we keep on - tending our gardens, caring for our young, serving where we can and stepping back where we can't, passing on what we've learned and knowing that for all our wisdom and experience, no one will really listen because we all have to learn for ourselves. More's the pity.