Tabatha Deans

Bringing Integrity to the Written Word

Run Grammy Run!

It was another lovely fall day, and especially good because it was a sleepover at Grammy and Papa’s for Petra for the weekend. She and I and Jess headed out for what I thought was a leisurely walk to the park. I admit I’ve been lazy since the wedding, and while I have been a jogger for the past 20 years I have slacked off in my discipline. I was feeling lazy, and not up for much effort in my walk.

As soon as we hit the open field, Jess decided to go for a run. She took off, and Petra ran behind her, dress flowing and her little legs flying as fast as she could go. She looked back over her shoulder at me, and seemed perplexed that I wasn’t running as well.

“Come on Grammy! Run!” she kept going, looking back at me.

“Oh honey, I can’t run right now,” I tried to excuse my laziness but she was having none of it.

“Oh Grammy, it’s easy. Watch me.” She exaggerated her steps, and I realized she thought I didn’t know how to run, so she was showing me.

I made a minimal effort, but she was not satisfied. She slowed down as I got closer to her, and held out her hand.

“Hold my hand Grammy, I think it will help you.” I took her hand and she drug me along relentlessly, until I finally gave up and actually started jogging to keep up with her. The look on her face when she looked back at me was priceless.

“You’re doing it Grammy! You’re running!” She was beaming with pride at having taught me something new, and I continued to run with her until we reached the park.

I can’t say I liked the running, but it was good to know I still had it in me, and her pride at teaching me was contagious. We played at the park until dusk, when Jess returned from running and Robert came to drive us home, so we didn’t have to brave coyotes through the field.

But wait, there’s more.

The next day, Petra had returned home and Robert was preparing to leave for Kansas, so he and I took a long walk along the canal road before he left. It was about a four mile walk, roundtrip, some of which included the field and park I had just been running in the day before.

We were still about a half a mile from home, well into the trail still, when Robert’s blood sugar dropped. He was halfway through a granola bar when it became obvious that one bar would not be enough.

“Do you want me to run home and get the car?” I asked, mostly to be nice. “Let’s wait and see.” He said. After a few minutes he conceded. “You should go get the car.”

And I was off and running. Not a fast run, but a steady jog. As I rounded the next corner I realized we were farther into the trail than I thought, and wondered for a moment if I would be able to make the jog all the way home. I kept going. When I finally left the trail and headed through the park and field, my lungs were on fire and I considered stopping and walking. But I didn’t. I kept seeing Petra’s face and hearing her joy as she yelled “You’re doing it Grammy! You’re running!”

I managed to jog all the way home, fetch the car and apple juice, and returned just as Robert was leaving the trail and headed for serious trouble. Disaster was averted, he drank the juice and eventually recovered.

All because Petra taught me how to run…

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November 6, 2017 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

Reality Check

I’ve always considered myself a pretty courteous person. In fact I get a good amount of pleasure out of doing things for other people. I always offer my seat to the elderly on the bus, or let the person with just one or two items cut in front of me at the grocery store. I delight in leaving little notes or treats for the people I love. My heart swells with joy at every good deed, and I imagine how much better I have made the lives of those that I have helped. In my reality, which I admit is often along the lines of rainbows and unicorns, everyone is eternally grateful for my kind deeds.

Well, most of the time anyway.

Recently I’ve noticed that Robert’s vial of Lantus, the nighttime insulin we both take, is often tipped over on the shelf in the medicine cabinet. Partly because I am a constant tidier, and partly because I like to do nice things, I have, on a daily basis, righted the offending bottle and placed it neatly in line next to the other insulin. The daily ritual of injecting Lantus is pretty important, since the Lantus is long acting and helps maintain our blood sugar throughout a twenty-four-hour period. I seems like lately Robert has mentioned he couldn’t remember whether or  not he had taken his Lantus, so I was particularly pleased with myself for paying attention as I took good care and lined the vial up in the cabinet.

The other night, as we stood next to each other at the bathroom counter, cabinets open and needles poised for injections, Robert looked at the insulin and got an odd look on his face. I assumed he had realized I’d righted his Lantus, and was probably internalizing how lucky he was to have such a great girlfriend as me. But his look was more confused than ecstatic.

“What?” I asked.

“Hmmm. I thought I took my Lantus.” He said. Wow, he had forgotten yet again.

“I always tip the bottle on its side after I take it. I could have sworn I’ve taken it already.”

Uh Oh.

Clearly our realities were at odds on this one. Luckily he understood my good intentions, and we were able to share a good laugh.

 

 

 

March 9, 2016 Posted by | Uncategorized | , , , , , , , | 1 Comment