Walks Of Life

Have you ever stopped and thought about the various kinds of walks that you might take over the course of your life? This thought popped into my brain the other day...right after I got home from taking a walk with a friend. How's that for irony? I thought it might be an excellent topic of conversation. 

Like I mentioned, this idea came to me after a cross country walk with a friend. My friend lives on a large tract of land that belongs to her husband's family. We started walking in January and could roam pretty freely but since the arrival of Spring and all its sunshine-glory, we've had to modify our path as the poison ivy has woken from its winter slumber...and no one has time for the chaos of a poison ivy rash. We walk and talk...hashing out our problems, the world's problems, and we even laugh. Laughing is a dicey thing when you're already breathing hard from the walking. I've also made use of a couple of public walking tracks but my favorite place to go "city walking" is down a stretch of sidewalk that cuts through the center of town. Pretty brick houses, big magnolia trees...it's great. One day, when the weather was decidedly blustery, I layered up and hit the street. I don't wear earphones when I walk...they bother my ears and I really feel better being able to hear what's around me...especially when I'm walking alone. I could hear the wind rushing through the branches...scattering leaves, causing pine cones to drop. The crack of acorns under my feet was strangely satisfying. No particular thoughts occupied my mind. My focus was on my breathing and the placement of my feet. My sweet little mama fell and broke her ankle in three places in 2021. The placement of my feet is an important thing.

Did you ever have to walk to the principal's office? Once in middle school...when I got caught up in middle school girl drama. Alex Crittendon was the assistant principal at Central Intermediate and he was a wonderful man, truly, but he did NOT suffer nonsense gladly. He took the gaggle of us into his office and spoke to us like we were his daughters. He meant business and I wasn't willing to test him. He promised to levy serious disciplinary action against any young lady who didn't change her ways. His word was good enough for me! In high school, Freshman year,  one of the AP's...and it wasn't Mr. Lyzak or Mr. Miller (total dreamboat in his Kelley green dress pants)...caught me outside with a can of Diet Coke. It was lunch time. My friend and I walked outside, which was allowed. Mr. Cranky AP drove by with the principal and proceeded to read me the riot act and order me to his office at the conclusion of lunch. I didn't know it taking my can out of the cafeteria was an offense, let alone one of such a grave nature. The way he went after me, I should have gotten caught writing on the bathroom wall or something worth the trouble. Needless to say, I never left the cafeteria with a soda can, again. 

What about the walks through a place you know like the back of your hand...but after dark? Somehow the absence of light changes the location to one of peril and danger. Papa Wood was chairman of deacons at my first childhood church. One of the trusted men of that congregation...so you tell me why that hammer knocker didn't have a key to the church? We'd get there early on Sunday night and need to open the building. He'd jimmy open one of the sliding windows that went along the length of the building and lift either me or my little sister through the open window and have us unlock the door from the inside. It was maybe 20 feet from the window to the door, but I would RUN to the door because that sanctuary scared the bejeezus out of me when all the lights were out. Never mind that I was just there earlier that morning. Saw everything there was to see about the room. Probably knew it well enough to walk from the window to the door with my eyes closed, but no way was I going to do that! Ranks right up there with the walk you might have made to your mama's bedroom, when you were a kid, after having a bad dream! Which is probably why most kids just lay there and holler for Mama!

For us girls, there's the walk we make as brides. I remember mine like it was yesterday and it was almost thirty one years ago! I stood at the entrance of the sanctuary with Papa as my escort, in a gown that Granny made for me and saw my future waiting for me...looking so handsome (and SO nervous) in his tux. Believe it or not, I didn't cry at all during the ceremony! There was a large moment of emotion at the rehearsal, but at the ceremony, I couldn't do anything but smile. Before we made our first step up the aisle, Papa gave me one last chance to change my mind. Nothing doing. That walk was one of the easiest walks I've ever made.

Walking my first child to his first day of Kindergarten should rank up there as one of the most gut wrenching walks I ever took, except for the fact that it didn't happen. We had practiced how he would get from the drop off point to his class before the first day of school. It was an emotional morning as we got ready to go to school...but it wasn't me that was coming apart. Little brother was inconsolable! Heartbroken that "Jon'ry" would be gone all day! Dealing with a not yet three year old's emotional meltdown got us out the door a few minutes later than I had desired. When we whipped into the parking lot, the very excited Kindergartener jumped out of the van with the biggest grin God ever created and said, "B'bye, Mama! I love you! I'll be ok....and so will you!" He turned and flew into the school house...leaving burn out marks on the pavement. (Not really...but that's just how excited he was!)

Being asked to serve as a pallbearer probably ranks as the most somber walk a person can take. I've never had that bittersweet honor. Mr. Snark has. He helped carry one of our "other mothers" and one of our B'ham boys. He's always regarded it as an act of service and taken it on with great solemness. Carrying the casket of the B'ham boy was probably the heaviest because of the emotional weight. He wasn't much older than our oldest. He was dear to our hearts and a blessing to our lives. Our Boyos helped carry their meemaw to her gravesite and I thought my knees would fall out from under me. Partially because of the raw emotion but mostly because of how the graveside ceremony had been arranged by the funeral home. The cemetery is situated on the downward slope of a hill...it's Sevier County, TN. Flat land is reserved for go-kart tracks and pancake houses. Instead of approaching the burial site coming up the hill, the funeral home set things up coming down the hill which required the casket to be lifted above a few neighboring headstones. It was COLD, the wind was showing out...the stage was set for chaos. God, in his mercy, heard my silent pleas and Meemaw's casket was safely brought to rest without incident. 

Celebratory walks...such as the walk made at graduation are monumental. I remember crossing the stage at my high school ceremony and finding Mama's face...tears streaming, of course, because that's our put-together. The expression on her face is etched in my mind. "We did it!"  Mr. Snark and I are members of the University of Tennessee's Class of 1995. He was with the College of Engineering and I was in another section with the College of Education. There were people EVERYWHERE! I'd never been part of anything quite so big. It felt like a dream. Me...coming from behind, over, and around so many obstacles...I was a college graduate. A year later, it was just me...Class of 1996 with my Master's Degree. I could hear my sweet fella up in the bleachers, cheering my name. There were all the perfunctory announcements about the dignity and respectable nature of the commencement proceedings. Thank goodness the nursing graduates gave no thought to the proprieties. As soon as their college was announced, they stood in unison and released a plethora of helium filled surgical gloves from under their gowns. And the gathered spectators roared in approval.

Do you have any secret walks? Maybe it's the location that's secret. A place that's special...a place that's not often visited by folks, so you have a private sanctuary when you go. Or is it a style of walking? I was usually the first one at the clinic. I like the quiet of the building before the rest of the staff and patients arrived, before the phone started ringing. It gave me time to pray, read my Bible, look at the day's schedule, make calls if appointments needed to be changed, deal with voicemail that came in after closing the night before. AND...it gave me time to practice my runway walk. The back hall of the building was perfect. The runways of New York, Paris, and Milan have nothing to fear. I'll never stomp them in real life, but in my imagination I sure did and left them weeping in my wake.

Our whole lives are filled with walks. Some harder than others. Some far more humorous and delightful. Some riddled with potholes and loose gravel. Others happen on thin ice or the edge of the knife. Find people who will walk beside you no matter the circumstance. Find folks who will push you from behind or give you a hand up when things get difficult. Find the ones who will be there to pick you up, dust you off, and take care of your scrapes. It might even be a good thing to find the dear ones who will walk an imaginary runway with you.