Dear Body

January 4, 2016

Greetings from the body electric,

Dear Body,

I keep meaning to write this but you know how things tend to accumulate and the days fill up and suddenly five decades have slipped away.  But this morning I felt like I shouldn’t wait any longer. 

First, I am not sure what you are telling me with this twinge in my shoulder.  Was it something I did to irritate you?  I have no memory of doing anything you would object to, but the last few days I get the feeling you are not at ease with me.

I suppose it could be related to running six miles the other morning.  I know slipping on icy roads is not your favorite thing, but I wasn’t intentionally trying to hurt you.  Anyway, I hope it’s not something from years ago that you’re just now mentioning.  Really, we are too close for that kind of thing.

I won’t bring up the other pains.  I know I brought those on myself. 

I realize that I don’t always listen to you.  That has caused us some problems.  When we were younger I always thought we’d just push through whatever mistakes I made, that there would always be time to bounce back.  It took about a decade too long to learn that 40 don’t bounce back like 30. 

I’d hate to start a list of what I could have done better for you. 

I am glad I listened to you about some things, maybe some too late.  I can’t believe I ever smoked, I am so sorry about that.  I’m glad we put it behind us.  As for the all the drinking and the Coney dogs and that deep fried calamari in Mexico, well I already admitted those were mistakes.  I know it’s harder to forgive me when I keep backsliding.  We’re both a work in progress, right?

I am not convinced you’re right about the tattoo.  Well, maybe we can talk about that later.

Speaking of that, I noticed that your skin is taking on a different texture.  Is that something I deal with, or are you handling that?

I don’t want to sound critical at all but I wish you would sleep more.  Seems like you forgot all those years the kids were young and you napped in the car on the way to work, and remember how we talked about the day you’d be able to sleep through the night?  What happened to that plan?  If there’s something I could do to help I wish you’d tell me.

When I got up this morning and swung my legs over the edge of the bed I could feel that you still were still a little sore about all the marathon training.  I wanted you to know how much I appreciate your support.  You know, it’s not just for me.  I do it for both of us.

Anyway when I woke up I lay there for a while and thought about you, and how much you do for me, day in and day out.  Year after year, without much direction, you just do what is wanted and needed.  And it struck me what a miracle that is.

The fact that the heart pumps and the lungs work and the reflexes twitch.  That the sweat beads when I need it, and if I have to lean left or right or reach or lift, you are right there without me having to tell you anything.  You have been amazing, and I realize I have sometimes taken you for granted.

I can’t thank you enough for where you have taken me.  For every mountain we climbed, every mile we rode, every race we ran.  Thank you for all of the pleasure you brought, the fun you helped create.  Thank you for being a part of every person I put my arms around, every child whose hand I held.  Thank you for giving me what I needed to get up when I fell.  I appreciate you keeping making me warm, for keeping me cool, for giving me the strength to do what makes every day worth it.

I know you want me to take you to yoga, and I heard you say that you really like more water and kale and less Moose Tracks and IPA.  I get it. I wrote down ‘moderation in all things’ if that works for you.  My point is that I will be more attentive, I will do better, and we will both be happier.

I know we are going to be together for the rest of our life, and I want that to be a long, long time.  So I promise that I will be a better partner, and that I will listen closer to what you tell me and try to act accordingly. 

Mostly I want to say how grateful I am.  Not just for all of the invisible, synapse-muscle-tendon-sensory gifts, but for what you make possible.  The fact that you turn my dreams, my wants and wishes and needs, into action, into reality.  I will always be thankful for your creation and your Creator.  I will do more to show that gratitude through my actions. 

And please don’t take the Moose Tracks too personally.

Hope this finds you singing,

David