Walk On

Since I've been on the topic of my dad lately, I thought I would add a little more. My blog, my rules, right? Well I think, for me, this has been helping with the grieving process. That being said, I also have an amazing step-dad who is still alive and that I count my lucky stars for every day. I love both of my dads equally.

Now, where was I?

When I was a little girl, my favorite thing to do with my dad was to go on walks. I grew up living in Los Angeles and Palmdale, CA. Palmdale is where my parents eventually settled, albeit living separately and married to different spouses. The neighborhood we lived in was relatively safe. When I'd go to my dad's, we'd walk our dog Lucky, usually to an empty hilled area where local teenagers would often ride dirt bikes in. I loved our dog and being outdoors, but mostly I loved the time I got to spend with my dad on these walks. Getting to talk to him out in the open, well I think it made him feel more open. Not that my dad was exactly a closed-off person. But he was a quiet, contemplative person.

On these walks he talked about everything. He was the happiest outside and it showed. I think it made both of us come out of our shells.

I may have been unintentionally guarded sometimes as well. Living in divided families, knowing one wrong word could potentially get the other parent in trouble, sometimes felt pressuring. Like I had to be naturally secretive.

Sometimes my older brother, Phillip, would join us on our walks, and later my little sister, Molly.

It seems dumb that something as simple as a walk would be the thing cemented in my memories of my father. But it's the little things, isn't it?

Only up until recently did I realize that's why my walks with my dogs and my family had become so important. I grew up spending that quality time with my dad, and I felt it was only right to do the same thing with my children. A time for them to get off their phones, grab a dog (we have 3), leave their worries behind (for just a little while) and breathe fresh air!

They don't always all come with me. Sometimes it's just me and my youngest (she loves adventure the most). But sometimes everyone comes. Of course my family doesn't really grasp the whole understanding of why it's important to me. Maybe they will later.

What's really important, is the time we're spending as a family, the bonding we're doing, and the memories we're making (whether they know it or not).

Is it weird to think my dad walks in spirit beside me on these walks sometimes? Probably, but I don't care. Because I feel more connected to him when I'm on them. Like I'm carrying on some unspoken tradition.

Until next time, I'll be walking on!

Thanks for reading,

Kathey