As I was putting in another hour of a training walk I answered the phone. I do that from time to time, that walking and talking thing. With the right phone call I can walk eight miles before hanging up. When I told the caller what I was doing he asked, “where are you going?” The funny thing is, I thought I had no idea and told him so.
Where am I going with this walk? What exactly am I getting out of it when seemingly all it does is freak me out? Needless anger about the people who say they will donate and don’t. Painful knees and hips after a particularly long walk. I miss my runs. Hell, I even miss the hills. It’s times like these that have me questioning myself and moi. But, then again…I DO know where I am going. If I really stop to think about it.
One of my mother’s oldest friends sent me a donation with a lovely note all about saving the world. Don’t I wish! My mother’s brother-in-law sent a hefty check with the words, “good luck with this year’s walk” as if he knows I’m going to do it again next year…and the year after that. I’m at the point (financially) where if I don’t get another donation I can write a check for the difference. I am comfortable with that. Because this is where I am going: a former coworker’s husband’s brother lost his job ten months ago. His wife is a stay-at-home-do-everything with four kids all under the age of six. She just this weekend discovered she has breast cancer. Regardless of her family’s ability to pay for anything she’ll be using the services of the Healing Garden…after she gets over the shock of it all. I’m going to walk for a woman I don’t know. I’m going to walk so she can get her aching feet massaged. I’m going to walk so she can talk to a counselor. I’m going to walk so things are just a smidgen easier for her family. I’m going to walk just ’cause I can.