I walked this morning. It isn’t as easy since Sam is not along, but it does give me lots of time to think and to reflect, and I am motivated to conquer this 51-year-old body that I’ve let down.
On my walks now, I notice things. The twigs that are waiting to be swept away with a broom or collected by a bird. The way I sometimes don’t pick up my feet and end up scuffling gravel. How my fingers swell about ten minutes into the walk. I know what the timer setting is on certain sprinkler systems now and leave the house earlier in order to avoid having to walk in the street. The earlier I walk, the more likely I am to see more wildlife – this morning it was two rabbits alive, one rabbit dead, five squirrel friends all eating mulberries together, a plethora of song birds, too many crows that make me cranky, and three lucky dogs whose owners wanted their companion along for the run.
I walked this morning, and as I did, I thought about how there is “socio-economic status” among trees. Some are planted in lush yards with automatic sprinkler systems, pruned and beautified, pampered with water and fertilizer and all the amenities of living a life of wealth and means. Some are planted in yards to do work – their job is to shelter and shadow, and they receive minimum “pay” for the hard and faithful work they perform. Others are homeless, in a way. Neglected and ignored, having to fend for themselves, looking like no one currently cares or loves them. Some have lots of friends and belong to a group, while others are lonely and face the world all by themselves. Each one is beautiful and unique underneath their coat of leaves, and they all have a purpose.
I walked this morning and replayed in my mind the blessings of the weekend. The ballgame that turned out to be so fun – a great win, but also time spent with Sam and Angela and Steve and Dad. Fireworks on a Friday night with new kinds I had not yet experienced. A really good hotdog. Enjoying Sam’s friendliness with strangers. Watching my Dad’s happy on his face when our Royals scored. Spending time with my CASA girl before her big night and having a heart-to-heart with her on the drive. Hearing the sweet giggles and laughter from a theater full of children who were experiencing Dory’s confusion for the first time. Butter on movie popcorn. Getting a text message from Linn to tell me their visit was going great. Seeing Lisa at church and feeling her hug. Sitting next to my sister at church. Adam’s lighter-hearted summer message about the spiritual lessons we can learn from dogs.
I walked this morning. On this post-Father’s Day, I reflected about my insanely stupid fear of heights, my sister’s insanely ridiculous appetite for adventure, and my Dad. My sister will not leave me alone about trying new things. A few months ago, she wanted me to go sit in Himalayan pink salt with her. And then she wanted me to try a pedicure which in and of itself FREAKS ME OUT SO BAD, but no, she wanted me to do a pedicure/massage with her in an almost dark room with lots of other people having the same procedure and you aren’t supposed to talk so any communication has to be in whispers and the pedicurists/massagers are all foreign and speaka zilcha English. Thanks to our sister, Michelle, I was off the hook and Michelle sacrificed in my place while I watched from the waiting couch in horror and counting my gratitude. So yesterday, for Father’s Day, she thought it would be so fun for Dad and his two girls to ride the Scheel’s ferris wheel with all of the other little kiddies. Reflection: I have an insanely stupid fear of heights (and pedicures). Reflection: My sister has an insanely ridiculous appetite for doing new things. Reflection: my Dad is a go-with-the-flow kinda guy.
I walked this morning. And I counted my blessings, one by one.
I didn’t scream.
My sister makes me happy if not a little gray-er.
My Dad puts up with a lot.
I love my family.
And I’m so glad Sam likes watching ferris wheels more than riding on them.