Road to wellness paved with, you guessed it, good intentions

Kathy Eliscu is a nurse and freelance writer
who lives in Westbrook. She credits her way of
looking at the light side of life to her mother, the
late Marge Eliscu, whose Coffee Break humor
column ran for two decades in the Maine
Sunday Telegram.

This highly scientific
article deals with the
unique interplay of factors
in reaching optimal
health. Or, ahem
wellness.

Personally, I find the
whole topic disturbing,
especially when
I'm trying to enjoy my
brownie sundae.
Last weekend, I got a
whole new perspective.
It happened somewhere
between that new
commercial (a bone
density/anti-cancer
drug that appears to
turn dozens of perfectly
normal human females
into zombies wrapped
in towels) and making
plans for a long holiday
weekend.

Usually, every fall,
plump tomatoes and
crisp peppers patiently
wait on our counter, fi-
nally shriveling beyond
recognition, as my husband
Ted and I settle
into a winter routine of
TV and snacks. Not this
year. I was determined
we'd go hiking. Kayaking.
Walking beaches.
Biking. Maybe fishing.
I had visions of grilling
fish and veggies, with
seasoning, just like in
the magazines.

An invitation from my
grown daughter Cassie
interrupted this fantasy.
They were driving to
New York City for my
granddaughter Emma's
9th birthday, a tea party
at some huge indoor
corporate doll place.

Ohhh! Then my son
Will, at college in New
York, called to say he
needed a few things I
forgot to pack, Mom.
Like half his room, the
necessities mixed in
with trash and apple
cores. He promised
to clean up next time
home. Yeah, right. And
Ted's mom in New
York? Turning 94 that
very weekend.

We discussed going
to New York during
a particularly unkind
game of Trivial Pursuit.
(It's so mean that Ted
knows so much). As
we weighed options, I
snuck off and weighed
myself.

We're staying
home! I screamed,
Yard work! Exercise!
Garden vegetables!
It was a pivotal moment.
Ted quick.
Outdoor gear into the
car trunk so we're
ready all weekend
long.

I ran upstairs, called
all family members
and told them we were
staying in Maine, taking
care of business
and ourselves.

OK, Cassie said,
but you can still
change your mind. Did
you know they provide
mini-highchairs for
the dollies at the tea
party?

Mini-highchairs? Oh,
now that's not fair.
Downstairs, Ted
hovered over maps of
mountain trails. Rekindling
my resolve, I
opened our vegetarian
cookbook brand new,
never cracked in fi e
years. I finished off the
last of the frozen Girl
Scout cookies (make
way for the next campaign
a great cause,
don't you think?) as I
studied recipes.
Going to the store
for herbs! I announced.

I admit I had some
tears en route, thinking
about parties and
people we'd miss. It
hadn't been any easier
that Ted was completely
flexible about
the weekend. What
a creep. But strength
replaced sadness, as
I marched into the
grocery store. Ahhh,
the victory of healthful
living over sloth and
silliness.

And all would have
been just fi ne if I hadn't
run into my friend
Denise at the store.
It's all a blur now, but I
remember her saying,
Tea party?? AMERICAN
GIRL? We did that
last year!!!...the most
fantastic, fab-, and
I remember dropping,
then picking up, my
just-purchased herbs ...
You know what I
think is amazing about
the complexity of wellness?
It's such a personal
journey. Without
rules.

One should never underestimate
the benefit
of briskly walking from
Grand Central Station
to Fifth Avenue and
49th Street, balancing
bags of presents and a
slice of pizza. Or reaching
for a tiny scone, a
sip of tea and a child's
kiss.