The first walk that comes to mind is a treacherous trek through a New England blizzard. The whipping wind took my breath away. I hold the strong hand of my father trusting he will always take care of me. A few years later, Dad and I walked again through the neighborhood streets after school and work. We'd talk and laugh. These walks helped him quit smoking. They were my favorite time of day.
Today, my Dad is gone. I walk alone. He is always at my side.
(Thanks for the opportunity to reminisce about these walks!)
P.S. Happy Birthday Dad.