I stood at the top of the driveway gazing down the steep slope to the entrance of the bed and breakfast. The view beyond the house showed a stunning portrait of tranquil water nestled among the mountains beneath a sapphire sky. I inhaled the heady scent of salt water and seaweed, filling my lungs with the freshness of the ocean. I looked forward to sitting on our patio with a good book and a refreshing drink. The large boulder beneath my feet was the first step suspended over a stairway of rocks jutting out from the ground. A metal railing ran alongside to guide guests to the bottom. A tidy garden crammed with brilliant flowers and greenery flanked the rocky staircase. I wondered if my knees would take me safely down. I started my cautious descent, clinging to the railing, the rough metal biting into the palm of my hand, weary of the pinch in my knees; a clumsy portrait of a slim young woman inching closer to the steep driveway that dipped to the front door. I listened to the incessant hum of bees dancing in the flowers, mindful of the uneven space between each step. I looked back and smiled at my partner, full of pride at my progress, thrilled that my knees were not shaking as much as I anticipated. The unexpected patter of shoes scampering behind startled me, and a gust of air swirled around, lifting my hair and scattering the loose leaves in the gardens as the sixty year old owner dashed by me to answer his ringing phone…
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About me
J.G. Chayko is a writer, actress, and international arthritis advocate who’s been involved in theatre for more than 30 years and has published poetry, fiction, and creative non-fiction.
You bring back such memories for me, J. Although my rheuma is no longer so vicious, I remember clearly how slowly and painfully I negotiated stairs or sloping or uneven ground. I remember hoping, hoping that my hips, knees or ankles would hold secure with each step, how I maintained a poker face even though each step hurt me bad enough that, if I weren’t so controlled, I would cry out in agony. And oh, I remember the relief I felt at having successfully completed my journey. One thing that we can claim is toughness. Another is resilience.
Beautiful, evocative post. You made me chuckle at the end, imagining a 60-year-old leaving you in his dust, fair springing down the stairs. Oh, my, yes. 😉
Thanks Wren…yes, there are still some days I have to be careful on those slopes and stairs…but even I laughed at watching a sixty year old leaving me in his dust 😉
Too funny! When I take my elderly parents shopping, it’s me who rides the motorized cart! I have RA and PsA in my feet and wrists – walking is a challenge most days, so I certainly know how you feel.
It’s a bit of a backwards world when the young people are hobbling around and the elderly are running circles around us…but good for those people who do, and as for us…we’ll keep slogging along. 🙂