No one wants to read about suffering. We want to learn about triumph over adversity, stories of stamina, fortitude and extraordinary character. We want to read about hope and strength, rather than the frailties of the human body. We want to read happy stories.
I love walking. Now that I can no longer ambulate without the assistance of a cane, I struggle to push away the memories of carrying a golf bag for 18 holes, long walks with my dogs, shoveling snow, pushing my daughter’s stroller.
When you can’t get up a flight of stairs except on all fours unless you have a railing to pull yourself up and are breathless and dripping with sweat by the time you arrive at the top, you pat yourself on the back and remind yourself walking is good for the soul and remember the days when you could mow your own lawn.
For those of…
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