Getting A Non-Doer to Do

Getting my 86 year-old mother out of her comfort zone isn't an easy task. She likes to do a few things- eat, sit in her recliner, and play Bingo on her computer. Movement- more than necessary- isn't a favorite. I can't really blame her though. She's old and things hurt, and thanks to an aging heart that hasn't exactly been well-cared for the smallest amount of exertion causes shortness of breath.

Even so, I keep trying to convince my dear old mom that just a few walks up and down the driveway might just help that neglected heart get a teeny-tiny bit stronger. For the most part, that suggestion has been ignored. 

Tonight, I realized there's only one person that can get that old gal to do something she doesn't want to do. That person is the ultimate doer himself, my brother-in-law, Michael. 

Michael, my mom, and I  had a lovely dinner in the small town of Havre De Grace. Our table offered up a nice view of the Susquehanna River just before it ends its 444-mile journey to meet up with the top of the Chesapeake Bay. Once our seafood and pasta dinner was over we drove down to the promenade that runs along the shore where river and bay meet. With the blue and pale orange skies of pre-sundown lighting up the water, it was quite a view to see. Families were everywhere, enjoying the views of water and sky. My mother was whining about walking.

"I'll sit right here in the car, while you all walk."

"Now, c'mon Mumsey," Michael insisted, "it's not a walk. You're using the wrong word. We're just going to take a stroll."

She looked over at the lighthouse about 50 yards away. Next to it was a park bench.

"I'll go as far as that bench and that's it. I'll wait for you there."

We made it as far as the bench and I tried to coax her along just a little farther.

"Mom, let's check out those carvings along the dock. They look pretty cool. Do you see that carved eagle?"

She wasn't going any farther. 

"I'll be right here when you get back"

Michael and I continued over to the dock and inspected the different wood carvings atop the pylons. There was an eagle, an owl, a woodpecker, and more lining the way. The dock wasn't quite as wide as I would have liked it to be so I wondered if taking Mom out there would have been a good idea.

And then I turned to see her heading down the dock.

"You know, from the bench," she started, " that one looks like a real duck!"

She made it all the way to the end of the dock where Michael and she stopped for a picture under the carved heron. 

We took our time heading back and even stopped to read about the British Invasion of Havre De Grace and stopped for another picture in front of the lighthouse.

By the time we returned to the car our food was a little more digested and I think my mom may have even forgotten that she took a walk. Hopefully, her heart enjoyed the exercise.