For Thor - 26 - Walk

I was grateful for the cardinals yesterday. They haven't been here for almost a whole year and then when I was feeling so very low, my head throbbing from crying I spied a flash of red outside my window -- and there he was, bright, spry, cocky and beautiful. Just like you. As if that wasn't enough, his mate came to play and then they brought some friends. I know this was you showering me in cardinals to tell me you are here and that you are okay and that somehow, I'll be okay, too.

The weather was bleak, but I went out for a walk anyhow. I was compelled to take the Big Camera, not merely my cell phone. I walked and talked to you as I always do and felt you fall in step along with me. I swear you held my hand. My heart burst open and tears streamed down my face - as they always do when I am in the Biggest Big, the great outdoors and am talking to you.

Then something magical happened; you and I began to play. As I trudged along my usual route, subtle and unusual bits of natural beauty sprung up before me. You showed them to me, illumined with a special aura. All I had to do was listen and see through my heart, focus and snap the shutter. I felt a great calm and comfort settle over me after I came home. I looked through the photos, and it was like replaying a treasured conversation in my mind.

Today I was late getting up. I lagged and dragged butt just getting myself in gear - whatever that means these days. When I finally rolled over to look out the window, the spectacular display of sunlight dancing over and ice-encrusted world pulled me outdoors, in my pajamas. I didn't want to miss even one second of the fantastic show.

Later, I finally made it outdoors for our walk. Again I was rewarded with your presence, but today you led me off-road and down a new trail through the woods, over the creek and back up the ridge to our house by way of the spring. The whole time we moved in companionable silence through the snowy woods. I laughed out loud because you kept showing me dragons in the remains of rotting stumps that poked through the sun-sparked snow. It was a brilliant day of beauty and such a delicious comfort to discover we can interact like this.

As I topped the last hill before turning for home, the tears fell - not the tears of suffering, not even the tears of sorrow. These are tears of love. Looking up, I noticed a large old oak tree her branches climbing into the vast blue expanse of the sky. I rested my forehead on her bark and wrapped my arms around her stout trunk. A tree is a good crying buddy; all the ancient energy of the earth rises through the trunk and to offers a profound and soothing solace.

I'll not lie; I miss you terribly. My heart breaks at the thought of you not being here to live out your life and to share all those adventures with us. But today I have a glimmer of hope in my heart that I'll not only survive, but once again, thrive. It will take time, and that's okay. I'll not be the same as I was, and that's okay, too. I know you will help - and sometimes that means we just go for a walk in the woods and play with the light.

I love you,
Mom