Renewal

Cold Afternoon on the Cloquet

Cold Afternoon on the Cloquet

The past twelve months have been hard. Good friends lost battles with insidious diseases or were struck down in the prime of life through no fault of their own. Another close friend slipped further into dementia. Two family dogs passed on. For the first time in my 17 years as a judge, the job, the day-to-day grind, is wearing me down. Rene’ went through foot surgery and then, after devoting 16 years to helping kids as a mental health therapist in the public schools, after 12 years working in Proctor, saw her position with Bayview Elementary eliminated with not so much as a “thank you.”  I found out my left knee is bone on bone, requiring at the very least, a partial knee replacement. I discovered black mold behind the walls of our garage. Water from the garage also leaked into the house and damaged drywall in the basement. The hot tub sprang a leak and, once the leak was repaired, the motor died. OK. I’ll grant you that last item doesn’t really deserve to be on the list. But the cumulative effect of it all is what’s so hard to wrangle, to come to grips with. I’ve told Rene’ that, after inventoring the woes of the past twelve months, this year has been absent joy. But that’s not entirely true.

There have been glorious moments I’ve experienced over the past year. Like the birth of Avery, our second grandchild, Jack’s graduation from Army basic training, Rene’ being hired as a Guardian ad Litem by the State of Minnesota, time spent with my boys hunting and fishing, holidays and other occasions spent with good friends and extended family, dates with my sweetie, trips to Montana and Florida and North Dakota and South Carolina, and the announcement of another grandchild on the way. However, behind the good times and moments of expressive joy, there still lurks a foreboding, a darkness that, well, for the first time in my life, I have felt incapable of overcoming. I know the funk I’m experiencing is what everyone who lives to my age encounters: a feeling of being “in between” the past (for those of us whose parents, thankfully, remain in good health), the present (as manifested by our children), and the future (as engendered in our grandchildren). I get it. I get that things change and I must endeavor to change as well. The first step, I think, is to vow, bad knee or not, to engage in physical activity, to set the pulse a racing, the breathing a gasping, and the muscles to aching. When I’m active, while the black clouds don’t disappear, they do seem far distant and not nearly as ominous as when I sit moping in my easy chair, staring out a window. And so, with our young Labrador Kena leading the way, I’ve made the conscious effort to get off my tired old duff, dress for the below zero days we’re experiencing,  wax up my skis, and lose myself in forest.

Kena on the River Trail.

Kena on the River Trail.

Looking north.

Looking north.

“Kena is a good girl”. That’s a phrase my son Chris invokes when talking about our dogs. Chris is spot on when it comes to our energetic two-year old pup. Oh, she’s not perfect. Yesterday, she managed to get hold of Rene’s stocking cap and destroy the tassel. But such incidents are few and far between. And Kena loves the trail, loves romping ahead of her human companion as we make our way through the aspen, maple, balsam, birch, and pine woods surrounding our house. This time of year, with the sun bright, the mercury below zero, and the air as still as a deep freeze, there’s not much wildlife to see. But on one of our recent treks, a ruffed grouse, concealed beneath snow, burst into the sunshine as we passed its hiding place. Kena, who has a pretty good nose, didn’t have a clue. The explosion of wings set my heart to racing but barely garnered a glance from the Lab. Also, despite an abundance of whitetails around our place, I rarely see deer out and about in such cold and, on our most recent below-zero ski, even their tracks proved scarce.

There’s a flock of Goldeneyes that, like clockwork, arrives on the Cloquet River in front of our house every November. The ducks time their descent from Canada to coincide with the expiration of waterfowl hunting. I have no idea how Manitoba ducks know when the season ends, but they do! Sometimes, as Kena and I make our way onto the stretch of ski trail that hugs the east bank of the river, twenty or so Goldeneyes will rise as one, whistling as they depart. Then too, a resident pair of bald eagles will often soar above the river, searching diligently for fish, their feathered majesties unaffected by cold. But on these January treks, it’s usually just Kena and me. And it’s while poling and gliding and huffing and puffing over new snow that I catalog the losses and the gains of the past year, my OCD mind creating a ledger of the good and the bad, an internal balance sheet that, in the end, favors the positive.

What do folks who live in town do when the weight of life, the passing of time and friends and family, and creeping despondency invade their spirits? I’m not certain. But I hope they have some place, like the trails behind my house on the Cloquet, where they can find renewal. Maybe its a city park or a local skating rink or a state ski trail or the slopes of Spirit Mountain or Mont du Lac or Lutsen or their church or mosque or synagogue or the public library that allows them to rekindle the flame. One thing is for certain: Life doesn’t get easier. Winter in Minnesota and the attendant seasonal malaise don’t help. But despite it all, there’s a chance for all of us to start anew, to forge ahead, putting one foot ahead of the other. I’m working on it. I hope you are too.

Peace.

Mark

The good girl.

The good girl.

 

 

About Mark

I'm a reformed lawyer and author.
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4 Responses to Renewal

  1. Vicky Stauber-Pufall says:

    And another close friend slips into the oblivion that is no longer wife and lover but caregiver…

  2. Darla Koski says:

    Mark, this is so poignant, on so many levels. I love your writing, your insights, and your ability to transcend beyond
    the “normal”. You are Truly a Gifted Artist!!!

Comments are closed.