I don’t know why I feel the sudden urge to write this down. The thoughts and words are pounding around in my head, pinging from one end to the other, and I must make them linear.
Today is only the second day I saw them, not unusual at all, since we were in the same place at the same time, each following our morning routine of walking the neighborhood trail in the dawn hour. But somehow today, they stuck with me. The way they walked, the way they did and didn’t look at each other, the way today looked the same as yesterday, but there must be so much more to it than that.
It’s been one week since the kids have gone back to school, and I am officially staying at home, for the first time in my life! After years of working in the all consuming field of education, where I gave so much of myself to children other than my own, this was the beginning of an exciting new journey. I looked so hopefully toward these first days where I would busy myself with all the tasks of the home and family and truly become the most devoted wife and mother that ever existed. How surprised I was to find those first few days overwhelmingly drab and confusing, filled with meaningless television, petty annoyances with my husband, and overall wonder at what the hell I was supposed to do now. Sure, there were the expected bright spots. I was home when the kids burst in the door on their first day of school with fresh baked cookies and an energetic curiosity about every detail of their day. The ideal mother! I was making home cooked meals with enthusiasm rather than a tired resentment of my matronly duties. But after the kids shared tidbits of their day and ate dinner, they were off to their own solace and relaxation after their own busy day. “This is it?” I thought. “This is what is left of me?” After some 72 hours of this purposeless ambling through the days with a dimly lit spirit, I knew I had to stretch. I threw myself into books on philosophy, finding meaning, and existential humanity. If I wasn’t out in the world making a difference, the least I could do is learn something.
Within 3 days I read some 600 pages of beautiful thinking about the human experience, and it was illuminating. Even in the act of reading and pondering the biggest questions, my soul felt ignited and new purposes revealed. What is left in the world? I’m looking for the beauty of it. After all, I do have time now.
Now, I’ll go back to the pair on the trial this morning. I presume it’s an elderly father and grown son. The father must be in his seventies, with white gray hair, a hunched back, and a hobbled, short stepped walk. The son, likely in his forties, has some kind of disability, and he walks the dog on a leash. The father’s pace is slow, and while the son bounces along with a more vigorous step, he is stopped frequently as the dog explores the trail, so their pace is even, and they are often side by side. When the son stops with the dog, and they are not side by side, the father walks on, knowing that he must keep walking to keep pace with his son, and to lead the way. After the dog explores, the son returns to his father’s side, and they press forward. I don’t see them talking, but they understand each other. There is no question about the path they are on together, no expectation that is not met, just the mutual acknowledgment that they are on this path. The path they were on yesterday. The path they will be on tomorrow. Together.
I am surprised at what pleasure this short observation brings me this morning. What beauty lies between this father and son. The sacrifice and devotion that this father has given his child, even through the likely heartbreak he certainly suffered at the first knowledge of the limitations of his son’s life, is pure beauty. Does that father, through the eyes of one who has grappled with what will and will not be, see the world through a more empathetic and even hopeful lens? Does he understand what it means for your hopes and dreams to change, evolve, and become even more wondrous than the originals? Does he celebrate the simplicities of life’s small joys and achievements with an appreciation that might be lost on others? The father has devoted his own life to the care and companionship of his child. On the other hand, the son provides companionship to his aging father. The son, through his need for guidance and care, provides his father with purpose. And joy, no doubt. And as the father walks on, mostly looking at the ground for sureness of foot, he knows his son is behind him, and then beside him, and they walk on, as they walked yesterday, as they will walk tomorrow. What is left in the world today, is joy in spite of struggle, blessings in the face of pain, and great hope where once it seemed small. An understanding that, while things may not go as planned, the diverted path, even with its treacherous obstacles, can lead one to find gratitude and solace in the simplest pleasures at its end.