Acorns, autumn leaves and woolly catepillars....

    I absolutely love autumn. I love everything about it, and I especially love autumn in Western Pennsylvania where I grew up. Over the years, I had promised myself that someday I would go back during this special time. Two years ago, I did just that. I went home for a ten day visit. The weather was beautiful, and the colors were glorious!

    I spent every morning and afternoon with my parents. But, when it got close to three o'clock I would speed dial my sister. "Hey, can I pick up the kids from school today? Can I take them to the park to play?" After all, I needed to get outside, and I didn't know anyone else who was available at three in the afternoon. I also didn't know anyone else who had the energy to keep up with me.

    I would race to the school and impatiently wait for my playmates. We went to the park and I always found something new and exciting. "Acorns!" I beamed at the kids. After all, I hadn't seen acorns in years. "A woolly caterpillar!" Really, when was the last time I saw one of those? By the time I was skipping through the leaves, I couldn't help but notice the way my young companions were nudging each other and giggling. Hmmm....I wondered what they found so amusing.

    One afternoon the park was uncharacteristically crowded. It appears that the trails are used for the local high school track meets. It was a perfect day and I was in a particularly playful mood, so we skipped and sang as we maneuvered around the crowds to find an open spot just for us. We balanced on logs, played Ninja games and I entertained them by doing cartwheels. Just about the time we had a cartwheel competition going on, I noticed a man staring at us a short distance away.

    I remembered seeing him earlier when we separated from the crowd. As a matter of fact, he was close behind us when we pretended to train with swords using big sticks that we found on the ground. I gathered the kids close to me and headed off to another section of the park. He followed us, and even picked up his pace until he was directly behind us. Quietly, I took the stick out of my niece's hand. I stepped in front of her and my nephew, and positioned myself for his next move.

    "Hi," he said. "I am a photographer for the Times. Can I take your picture for the paper?" I was speechless. After all, I was ready to clobber him with my stick, and he was asking to take our picture. "I can't guarantee it will be in the paper, but it might make the online issue. You can check tomorrow." I finally regained enough composure to notice the large camera he was carrying. I found my voice. "You mean the Beaver County Times?" At least he wasn't a stalker. I hoped.

    The next day people all over the County were greeted with a picture of the three of us on the front page of the Times. My niece and nephew were local celebrities. I was their Awesome Aunt Cheryl from Colorado that picked them up after school, knew how to do cartwheels, taught them how to be Ninjas, and got their picture in the paper. In the meantime, I was kicking myself for wearing a T shirt that afternoon instead of the pretty pink blouse I wore the day before.

    My ten day visit lasted a lot longer than I had planned. Four weeks later I was still there. I still walked all over the woods and the park, and I still picked up my playmates from school to play with me, even though the days were getting shorter and considerably colder. By that time, the acorns, autumn leaves and woolly caterpillars had lost their magic, but that's a story for another day.

    Out of all the people that crowded into the park on that beautiful fall day, I don't know why the photographer chose us. Maybe because we looked so happy and were having so much fun together. Maybe because he never saw a middle aged lady do a cartwheel before. Or maybe he was tired of photographing the high school track stars.

    The point is, sometimes you just have to let yourself go and be silly. It's important to retain your child like spirit and curiosity, no matter what else is going on in your life. You never know what will develop, so to speak. Remember to walk softly and carry a big stick, especially when you are responsible for the health and safety of young children. Finally, when you go out to play,  you might want to wear a pretty blouse instead of a T shirt. You never know who's going to see you!

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

Looking back....on the end of a season.

    I love the autumn. I always have, and I always will. I love everything about it. I love how the long, hot, summer days transition into the short, cool days of fall. The days are shorter, but so much brighter and more beautiful. It's almost magical watching the trees slowly change their deep green leaves to  vibrant yellow, gold, scarlet and orange. I love watching the pumpkins and corn stalks appear, and seeing the fall festivals in full swing. It's harvest time. A time to reap the final rewards of the end of a season of growing.

    After the heat of summer, fall feels like a glorious relief; a time of renewal, of new beginnings rather than endings. Of looking back on a year gone by as we put on heavier clothes, close our windows against the cold nights, snuggle in and prepare for a long winter even as we watch the beautiful colors unfold in nature's kaleidoscope. With each leaf that falls, I always have a sense of joy and peace, as that one leaf goes out in a blaze of glory, with grace and dignity. The leaves pile up on the ground for the gentle breezes to lift them into their last graceful dance until they come to their final resting place, and wait for the snow and ice of winter. I love autumn.

    Last year I had the opportunity to spend the entire autumn in Western Pennsylvania. I was able to witness the end of another season. I lived in my childhood home, watching the trees turn their brilliant colors, the leaves fall, the acorns litter the ground and the days grow shorter and colder. I watched as the Halloween decorations went up. And came down. I watched as the Thanksgiving decorations went up. And came down. I took long walks in the woods and around the neighborhood where I grew up, marveling at the colors and the slow change of season as late summer turned to one of the most beautiful autumns I have ever experienced. I was there for the season's end, and felt the bitter cold, snow and ice of winter descend upon us.

    Both of my parents died last fall, in the autumn, the season that I love so much. As heartbreaking as it was, the truth is that this was one final gift from my parents to me; that I could enjoy one last autumn with them. I watched as their season ended, as their days became shorter and fewer, and how they came to their final resting place with grace and dignity. Their strong will, spirit and irrepressible humor never faltered during the end of their season. The strength that they displayed in the final months of their lives was very touching, endearing and inspiring. They fought for each other as they battled the end stage of the same disease together.

     As their adult child, you think you know your parents and the dynamics of their relationship. However, it was incredibly revealing and humbling to witness the level of intimacy between two people who have spent over 60 years of their lives together. I was deeply moved to witness many private moments between them, experiences that I have shared with no one else, respecting their privacy to the very end. They knew they were both dying, but still shared an appreciation for each other and the life that they built together.

    There have been so many gifts and blessings that have come from this final autumn in the lives of my parents and the time that I was blessed to spend with them and my sisters in their last days.The end of a season is no less lovely than it's the beginning. The sun setting is no less beautiful than the sun rising. In some ways, it is even more beautiful as we celebrate two lives well lived, two people who loved each other unconditionally, and who certainly lived life to the fullest!
     
    Looking back, when I come to the autumn of my life, I can only hope that I can approach it with the same degree of grace, dignity and quiet pride that my parents did. I want to fall like an autumn leaf, in a blaze of color,taking my last graceful dance to my final resting place. I hope to have the peace that comes from knowing that my work here is done, and that I have served my purpose well.

    It is also my wish for you.

George and Mara

Be healthy, and live well!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP

The kindness of strangers.

    I spent a lot of time back East last fall. I love autumn. And I love the outdoors, as long as I don't have to get too dirty. There is a beautiful park not far from my parents' house that had some nice hiking trails. I spent a lot of time in that park and on those trails.

    One late afternoon I went to the park for some serious exercise. I climbed the familiar trails and started to feel adventurous. So, I wandered off the trail and went exploring. It was exhilarating! The weather had started to turn cooler and I could feel the dampness and the chill in the air even though the sun was shining through huge white clouds. I loved the fall colors and the smell of the woods. Fall has always been my favorite season, and I was having a great time. Eventually it was time to head home.

    I turned around, reversing my tracks toward the trail, the parking lot and my car. Along the way, in a spirit of playfulness, I began playing ninja games in the woods. I turned  my wilderness expedition into a little martial arts training. I was happily balancing over a log that had fallen across a small creek when I realized something wasn't quite right. What was I doing standing over a creek? I didn't remember any creek. I shook off a sense of unease. I began reversing my path once again, certain I could find my way back to the trail.

    I wandered about for another half hour before I came to the obvious conclusion. I was lost. In the woods. By myself. With no cell phone. I tried to orient myself to my surroundings, figure out which direction would take me back to the trail, and tried again. Nothing looked familiar. I started to get worried. I wasn't even sure if I had told anyone at my Mom and Dad's house where I was going. I finally came to a steep incline. At the top I could see the reassuring sight of a neat little neighborhood. Surely somebody would be home even though it was the middle of the day and the middle of the week. They could point me in the right direction back to the park.

    Relieved, I walked up the hill onto some one's back yard. I heard snarling. I looked up and found myself face to face with a snarling, drooling German Shepard that must have outweighed me by about 20 pounds . Uh-oh. I lowered my eyes and began talking softly to her, hoping she would calm down. I was hoping I would stay calm. What I was really hoping was that her owners were home and would keep this bad day from getting worse. The front door of the house opened and her owners came out.
 
    I explained where I had been, and said that I had wandered off of the trail. Would they please point me back in the right direction to the park? They exchanged a funny look. "Where did you say you were?" the young man asked. "Well, I was hiking in Hopewell Park. I just need you to tell me how to get back to the trail." There was that funny look again. The young man said, "I'll take you there." "Oh, no, I don't want to inconvenience you," I protested. "Ma'am," he replied, "you are a good long way from Hopewell Park."

    By this time the German Shepard was wagging her tail and licking my hand. We got in the young man's truck and he drove me back to the park. It took over twenty minutes to get there. "Wow, I guess I did wander pretty far off of the trail," I said, rather sheepishly. My kind escort dropped me off at my rental car with a gentle admonition about staying on the trails next time. I assured him I would. But at that point I was pretty sure I was done hiking that park for good.

    The truth is, there are times in life when get lost, either literally or figuratively. Perhaps we get carried away with our own enthusiasm or sense of adventure and wander too far off of our chosen path. We can become so disoriented that we start going around in circles, expending a lot of energy but going nowhere. Maybe we are simply not paying attention. Maybe we have wandered so far off track that there is no way of getting back without help, or in my case, the kindness of strangers.

    On the other hand,  veering off track helps expand our horizons. Stepping a little way off of the path can lead us to new and uncharted territory. It can open us up to new ideas and new possibilities. It can help take us out of our habits and patterns that may be holding us back from achieving our full potential, or getting more satisfaction and joy out of life.

    And sometimes the teeth of a German Shepard is actually a smile disguised as a snarl, but I wouldn't count on that one. Here is hoping you have many safe adventures, and may you never lose your way.

Be healthy!
Cheryl Ilov, PT, GCFP