I’m four inches taller than my mom, and our legs are the same length. I know because we measured when I was in college. My mom, brother and I lined up side to side, and it was quickly determined that my brother was all torso. So we had a runoff for longest legs. Using the big wooden yardstick that hung on the kitchen wall, we called it a tie between mom and me.
I learned to walk fast by spending years trying keep up with her. She walked purposefully through a grocery store, through a mall, across a parking lot, to the neighbor’s house. She’d take big, bounding strides and if you weren’t paying attention, you’d be a jog’s pace behind her in a few seconds.
When we moved her to the nursing home she’d spend most of her waking moments walking up and down the halls, getting into trouble as she’d go, being her normal, nosy self. But now she’s starting to have trouble with balance and coordination.
I’ve been so worried that as she started to lose stability in these late stages that she’d fall and break her leg, or worse. I asked about training her to use a walker so we could prevent it, but the physical therapy unit evaluated her and determined she’s too far along to learn to use it.
Here’s the ironic thing, as she’s lost stability walking, she’s simultaneously lost that initiative to get up and go independently. She still walks whenever you take her by the hand and lead her, though she has to stop along the way to sit and regroup. But when you put her in a chair, or put her to bed, she stays there till you come and get her. It’s a bit of divine intervention really.
Here’s some video from last week’s walk to see our favorite trees in bloom…
And the good-byes to the pink trees…