Repeated by request
“The hurrier I go, the behinder I get.” Have you seen that old Amish saying on trivets and wall plaques? They are popular items at the souvenir shops. Even though the motto is not very grammatical, there is a message there that a lot of us need. Me, for instance.
I guess I take after Aunt Ida. She's a real hustler. Since she's a favorite relative of mine, I've always felt rather pleased with this trait of mine. I like to get right to the point in conversations. I can make up my mind fast. And I enjoy getting the job at hand done quickly. Hurrying has become a way of life for me.
Well, there's another old saying that goes something like this: “We get too soon old and too late smart.” How true. Now, as a senior citizen, I have wised up to the fact that there may be, after all, some merit in taking your good old time - sometimes at least. You know what changed my thinking mostly? My broken leg.
When I slipped in the snow and fell, breaking my ankle in three places, my spring schedule broke into pieces as well. Canceled was a trip to Florida, a family birthday dinner and many other appointments on my calendar. I admit that I was quite frustrated and disappointed. What an inconvenience a broken bone can be!
Yet, as I look back now, I realize that my spring schedule was not shattered. It was replaced by other goals. These new goals were rather ambitious undertakings. Things like traveling via walker/wheelchair/car to the doctor's office (even with help, an exhausting effort); preparing a dinner for friends, complete with a homemade cake; and making it to church on Mother's Day, lame leg and all, wearing my new outfit and corsage.
Simple things like this suddenly gave me quite a feeling of accomplishment. I never thought it would happen, but all of this has led to some new and interesting discoveries about time management during my recuperation.
First of all, nature provided us with a prime example of the proverb, “Slow and steady wins the race.” Our bodies have the ability to mend, but there is no way one can hurry the gradual knitting of our bones. A miraculous process is going on, and it takes time. Like it or not, one just sits (mostly) for six to eight weeks and waits.
Then, there is the telephone. Elmeretta called one evening during one of my favorite television programs. “How are you doin'? she asked. I gave her my ankle report, with one eye on the TV. But then she started to tell me about her day and I realized this was going to be a long conversation.
“Just a minute, Elmeretta,” I said. I maneuvered over to the TV set and snapped off my program, because I had suddenly realized something. Today was the 10th of the month - the anniversary of Hubert's death. I sensed that Elmeretta was feeling lonely and needed to talk.
“I'm back,” I said, settling into my chair. “Now you tell me how YOU are doing, dear.” For 45 minutes we indulged in some nostalgia together. You can see, I've stopped hurrying through phone calls.
Dorothy Nelson lives and writes in Auburn
I guess I take after Aunt Ida. She's a real hustler. Since she's a favorite relative of mine, I've always felt rather pleased with this trait of mine. I like to get right to the point in conversations. I can make up my mind fast. And I enjoy getting the job at hand done quickly. Hurrying has become a way of life for me.
Well, there's another old saying that goes something like this: “We get too soon old and too late smart.” How true. Now, as a senior citizen, I have wised up to the fact that there may be, after all, some merit in taking your good old time - sometimes at least. You know what changed my thinking mostly? My broken leg.
When I slipped in the snow and fell, breaking my ankle in three places, my spring schedule broke into pieces as well. Canceled was a trip to Florida, a family birthday dinner and many other appointments on my calendar. I admit that I was quite frustrated and disappointed. What an inconvenience a broken bone can be!
Yet, as I look back now, I realize that my spring schedule was not shattered. It was replaced by other goals. These new goals were rather ambitious undertakings. Things like traveling via walker/wheelchair/car to the doctor's office (even with help, an exhausting effort); preparing a dinner for friends, complete with a homemade cake; and making it to church on Mother's Day, lame leg and all, wearing my new outfit and corsage.
Simple things like this suddenly gave me quite a feeling of accomplishment. I never thought it would happen, but all of this has led to some new and interesting discoveries about time management during my recuperation.
First of all, nature provided us with a prime example of the proverb, “Slow and steady wins the race.” Our bodies have the ability to mend, but there is no way one can hurry the gradual knitting of our bones. A miraculous process is going on, and it takes time. Like it or not, one just sits (mostly) for six to eight weeks and waits.
Then, there is the telephone. Elmeretta called one evening during one of my favorite television programs. “How are you doin'? she asked. I gave her my ankle report, with one eye on the TV. But then she started to tell me about her day and I realized this was going to be a long conversation.
“Just a minute, Elmeretta,” I said. I maneuvered over to the TV set and snapped off my program, because I had suddenly realized something. Today was the 10th of the month - the anniversary of Hubert's death. I sensed that Elmeretta was feeling lonely and needed to talk.
“I'm back,” I said, settling into my chair. “Now you tell me how YOU are doing, dear.” For 45 minutes we indulged in some nostalgia together. You can see, I've stopped hurrying through phone calls.
Dorothy Nelson lives and writes in Auburn
The Citizens' Say
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