I appreciate the longer days of summer for many reasons. One is that they allow Peter and me to take an after-dinner stroll around our neighborhood, one of my favorite things. It takes us about twelve minutes to do a loop. We check out our neighbors’ gardens, notice how much the kids playing basketball on the street have grown and, perhaps, chat with their parents.
Our strolls make it OK to spend the rest of the evening plopped on the sofa.
Sometimes we talk to each another as we walk. Sometimes we are lost in our own thoughts. The other night, I mentioned how fortunate we are. Nine years ago when Peter was diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease, we had no idea how much longer he would be able to do this walk. We didn’t know that, nine years later, we would still be in a house with three flights of stairs. We had no idea what we were going to have to deal with.
“It’s better than I thought,” said Peter.