How did I come to walking into the sky?
Coming from a family of walkers, I soon joined the others. My Bubchi walked miles one day to visit our first child, Deirdre. My Dad walked and greeted all he met daily with a smile, and my Mom was still walking in her early 70s. Like many children, I walked to and from school, but I could not leave the house until I finished the wholesome breakfast my father prepared. Thus, I still favor hearty breakfasts. I walked to school with Lucy Ellen, my favorite friend. As a teen, my boyfriend Frank walked with me, carrying my books. Away at college, this city girl walked everywhere, braving the cold of Keene, NH as I crossed campus. Then Rich, my boyfriend, suggested I take a break and ride in his car. In that, the floor on the passenger side was not all there, I declined and walked.
A young Mom, living in the country, I walked Deirdre almost daily. She could see and marvel at birds, flowers, and even a nearby cow. A few years later, now in the city, I walked with Stacey in the carriage and Deirdre next to me. One day Deirdre noticed the people across the street and said, "Look Mommy, they look like you." I had recently talked to her about people of color, but I said, "No, I am not black." I have often thought it was not the right answer, for my dear friend Lucy Eiien was black. Soon another baby, our son Richie, was in the carriage, and the girls prattled to their brother about birds, trucks, and anything moving. After we settled in Rye, NH, with the beach nearby, I often walked the three tow-heads to the beach later in the day. How I wished I had an extra hand as I watched the girls playing in the water while I held onto Richie
As the children became more independent, I could walk to the beach alone, and how I relished the feel of the sand under my feet, and the cry of the gulls as I picked up shells, which I still do to this day. I especially enjoyed sitting and looking at the ocean, feeling joy, at one with the earth. These were truly wonderful years, bringing up the family, living in Rye with the beach nearby—a dream come true. The children, now adults, moved on and started their own families. Before long, I was a grandmother, pushing our grandson Christian in the carriage down the road. A few years later, Aidan was the new baby, and Christian rode on the back of the carriage down to the beach and all around as I pointed out marsh grasses, the sea gulls, and the ocean.
So again, how did I come to walking into the sky?
We now lived on a pristine lake in NH, so different from the ocean with its crashing waves. Yet I felt calm as I stood and looked at the shimmering lake, bounded by purple tinted mountains. Daily I walked up the road, sometimes meditating, sometimes hashing out problems. But I marveled at the trees as I walked with the lake always in view. One day walking back up the hill, I looked ahead and said, I am walking into the sky. Why did I feel this? I still don’t know. But God knows, so I am content.
