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!)
Michelle
P.S. Happy Birthday Dad.
9 comments:
Happy Birthday to your dad. No, you are not walking alone. He is there beside you. He always would be, as you say.
Like my dad.
gautami
isnt it lovely how a single word can bring to life a cherished memory....
Wonderfully warm reflection on your love for your father.
may your walks always bring you a sense of connectivity to your Dad.
Like Gautami writes, we are never alone when we are walking. Our loved ones are always just a wish away.
This short post packs a wallop!
My father's birthday was yesterday. I miss the walks, too. A lovely reminder of your dad.
Nice tribute to your father...lovely thoughts.
What a wonderful memory to know that you had those walks with your dad and to know that they helped him kick the smoking habit.
what a lovely memory!!!and no, you don't walk alone...
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