Health/Illness

All Poems, Family, Grandchildren, Gym/exercise, Health/Illness

Exercise Class

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It’s really fun, said Elias.

Talking about the exercise class at Salus.

The one we got him a special waiver to attend with us.

Now saying he’d like to take two classes tomorrow.

Before returning to New York.

One to strengthen core.

The second, yoga.

Both for stretching.

Moving arms, legs.

Maintaining balance.

For learning.

How to bend with pipes.

Pull elastic bands.

Carry weights.

Do dead bugs.

All novel for an eleven-year-old.

Not used to tuning every muscle.

Novel for us grandparents, too.

Maybe adding a little extra time to well-worn bodies.

Who would ever dream he and we could benefit?

Together?

Same trainer?

Child and parents of his mother?

But, the three of us, we fit

like colorful lego bricks.

All eager to build and master

physical wellness tricks.

 

Lynn Benjamin

June 13, 2024

Aging, All Poems, Change, Family, Gym/exercise, Health/Illness, Humor, Love, Pleasure, Seasons, Spouses

Transformation

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Bob transforms before my eyes.

Noting new muscles in stomach, thighs.

Increasing weights on machines.

Walking with zip, alacrity.

Signing up for classes to strengthen core.

Watching carbs, losing weight.

Shrinking from pant size forty to thirty-six.

A number he hasn’t worn since his twenties.

Why do people think a man of seventy-five can’t change?

Even become younger?

Stare at himself in the mirror like a seventeen-year-old?

Study his physique?

Buy stylish clothing?

New undergarments, socks?

Hold my hand, rub my back?

Flirt, enchant, allure with passion?

Wax poetic about flowers?

Blooming clematis, daisies, lavender.

Waiting for bee balm, Echinacea to bare petals.

Attract hummingbirds, butterflies.

Notice mating calls of frogs, foxes?

Cardinals, robins, wrens

Luscious sensuality abounds.

June’s vitality makes it easy to be young.

No matter your age.

Passion floats with pollen through the air.

Settling golden on the skin.

Transfigured, we instantly take care.

With vigor, once again smitten.

 

Lynn Benjamin

June 3, 2024

Aging, All Poems, Change, Cousins, Emotions, Family, Gardens, Health/Illness, Loss, Regret, Stories

Sitting with Libby

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I’m glad we went to see Libby today, said Bob.

Bustling around the kitchen.

Reflecting on the afternoon.

I’m glad we visited, too.

A chance to sit outside with her.

Under Japanese lilacs.

Perfuming breezes.

Sneaking through open doors to sweeten corridors.

In the residence where she now resided.

It was peaceful.

Not a word about politics.

Conviction of Trump.

Just being together in the garden.

Three of us, alone.

Talking about her soon-to-be ninety-first birthday.

Her new great grandson.

Mention of him filling her eyes with tears.

Scrolling photos on her phone.

Stopping at azaleas outside her former home.

Pictures, she requested from her son.

Still living there.

Blooming bushes, a place, a season she misses.

Trading them for needed care.

Knowing the choice, right.

But wistful for what she left behind.

We sat in shade.

Just present with each other.

I, commenting on her pink nails, short haircut.

Simple, unhurried conversation.

Plying her about my maternal grandparents.

Her aunt and uncle.

Whom she knew growing up.

But who didn’t survive past my second year.

She, the last link in the family to remember them.

My turn to feel melancholy.

Not getting to know them.

I wish my parents told me more.

Or maybe I hadn’t heard.

Tenuous my history.

Who’s left to pass on the word?

 

Lynn Benjamin

June 1, 2024

All Poems, Health/Illness, Hope, People Traits, Politics

Appreciation

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It was an extraordinary day.

Instead of pollen, breezes carried appreciation.

Landing where I’d not seen it before.

Starting with an emergency appointment in a dental chair.

Discovering an infection under a recent crown.

Having the fortune to see an endodontist the same afternoon.

For a root canal.

Painful, but necessary.

Arriving home to witness a trio of handymen.

Doing jobs around our house.

Repairing, painting, creating.

The artisans three.

Brothers who work together.

Know their craft well.

The finale.

Our justice system.

Convicting Donald J. Trump

On thirty-four felony counts.

The jury paying attention.

Evaluating.

Deliberating.

Honoring accountability.

A trait distinguishing people from animals in the wild.

Lifting them to the ethical realm.

Beyond guilt, shame.

To responsibility for actions taken.

Too bad for some, accountability happens in a court of law.

Rather than in their own repertoire of responses.

To behaviors, actions taken.

But, today’s verdict, victory for democracy.

For humanity.

For me, a day of appreciation.

Hope and gratitude.

Boosting high my spirits.

Elevating mood.

 

Lynn Benjamin

May 31, 2024

Ivan B.Nagy, M.D., one of the leaders of the family therapy movement, wrote extensively about accountability existing in an ethical realm above psychology.

Art/Arts, Emotions, Health/Illness, Stories

What Was I Doing?

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What was I doing lying on the sidewalk?

At Fifth and Chestnut?

Didn’t I just cross the street?

From Independence Square toward the Arden?

What happened?

Why do I see legs, a pole?

Instead of pedestrian faces?

What’s that scrape on my palm?

Who’s the man offering help?

Thanks. Yes, I’m fine, as I grab the outstretched hand.

Pulling me onto my feet.

A little disoriented.

Your shoe hit the cutout in the curb, the stranger pointed.

Sure you’re okay?  he asked before moving on.

I assured him I was fine, dusting off clothing.

I spun to walk with Bob.

Hoping I didn’t rip my slacks.

Thinking, they’re new.

Strange, what goes through the mind.

After an accident.

I looked down.

Slacks, untorn.

Only the leg underneath skinned.

So, we proceeded.

Stopped at CVS for Purell.

To apply to the bloody scrape.

Then off to see Once on this Island.

Fairytale to distract.

Grateful to stand up, move.

Walk away intact.

 

Lynn Benjamin

May 29, 2024

 

All Poems, Friendship, Health/Illness, Homages, Hope, Spirituality

Breath of Life

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To Diane

 

Inspiration is the breath of life.

Animating, energizing, propelling us forward.

In the face of injustice, sorrow, despair.

So, I actively seek it.

In persistence of a bee on lavender salvia.

Song of a tiny sparrow.

Dance of a swallowtail butterfly.

Renewal in springtime.

Rainbows after a storm.

In zestfulness of a friend.

Continuing to minister to people.

Through writings, teachings, listening.

Despite older age, illnesses.

Gnawing at the body.

Though strengthening spirit.

Arriving at my door with a bouquet.

Peruvian lilies, Persian daisies, a golden mum.

Delivering perfumes of hope.

Resilience.

Optimism.

In cloudy times.

Visits, like prayers, strengthen.

Refill empty spaces.

Transport to places not unreachable.

Except through connection with others.

A woman who teaches, inspires.

Mission to edify, uplift.

The intensity of her passion.

A heartening, curative gift.

 

Lynn Benjamin

May 26, 2024

Aging, All Poems, Gym/exercise, Health/Illness

Mobilizing Mitochondria

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Each day I run to the gym.

Sometimes for a class.

Sometimes to walk the track.

Do solitary stretching.

Or lift weights on machines.

Thinking about balance, strength, endurance.

But, lately, paying attention to mitochondria.

What are they? you ask.

Those thousands of power batteries inside cells.

Residing in heart, liver, muscles, brain.

And every other organ.

Breaking down nutrition into energy for the body.

Making  super fuel known as ATP.

Exercise stimulating their number, density, turnover.

Producing more ATP.

Science suggesting their health may increase mine.

Delay aging.

Keep it at bay.

Who knew I could nurture them?

Just by moving?

Mobilizing mitochondria

stimulates growth and change.

Exercise to keep our youth.

Not a bad exchange.

 

Lynn Benjamin

May 19, 2024

All Poems, Family, Gardens, Gym/exercise, Health/Illness, Seasons, Spouses

Gardener’s Carry

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I’m doing the gardener’s carry, said Bob.

Hauling a twenty-pound bag of top soil.

From the front of the house to the back.

To cover peas.

The first crop of the season.

Planted three weeks late.

But, announcing the true arrival of spring.

Two afternoons of work in three blue pots.

Ready to catch cool mornings, sunshine, rainy days.

Necessary to sprout.

Grow strong shoots.

Just like the gardener.

Daily working out.

To vitalize muscles.

Lose excess weight.

Stand straight, tall.

Develop stamina.

Fulfill tasks like transporting soil.

Mimicking exercises in the gym.

The gardener was gleeful.

His first spring sowing done.

In a mere three weeks or so,

snap pea germination.

 

Lynn Benjamin

April 17, 2024

Aging, All Poems, Health/Illness, Memories, Stories, Wisdom

Today was Visiting Day

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Today was visiting day.

Not for children at school or camp.

Rather, for members of the oldest generation.

A cousin, nearly ninety-one.

And my sister’s mother-in-law.

Both in the same building, different wings.

One for residence.

No longer able to manage her home.

The other for rehabilitation.

After falling, breaking a femur.

Rounds like my father made when still alive.

To see his sisters.

One in a senior residence.

Another alone in an apartment.

His brother-in-law in assisted living.

Sister-in-law in nursing care.

Visits I often drove him to.

When he no longer had a car.

Necessary visits.

Remembering the lonely.

The ill, disabled.

Imbuing visitor with contentment.

Gratification to stop, chat.

Look at photos of a great grand baby.

Hear details of an accident.

Wise words from an immobile woman.

If you have health, you have riches.

 

Is it possible my father hovered

between me and those unwell?

Accompanying me on visits

in mysterious parallel?

 

Lynn Benjamin

April 16, 2024

Aging, All Poems, Family, Health/Illness, Hope, Spouses, Wisdom

Never Too Late

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It’s never too late to take care of your body.

Go to the gym.

Lift weights.

Stretch, build strength.

Even at seventy-five, it can make a difference.

As Bob notices.

Demonstrating his biceps.

Flatter belly.

Why didn’t he start earlier?

Always studying?

Rearing children?

Working long hours?

Tending to aging parents?

Believing he wasn’t athletic?

He spent years cultivating the mind.

Becoming a physician.

Treating patients day and night.

Who had time?

Stamina?

Motivation?

But, he’s honoring his body now.

Grateful it’s not too late.

Schedule full of bands, barbells.

No time to procrastinate.

 

Lynn Benjamin

April 14, 2024