You could take a walk

This is where I walk.

Lots of people say this and it’s on every list of things connected to grief groups. I’m sure it’s helpful for some people, but I’m more the kind of person who walks TO somewhere - walking just to be walking seems kind of pointless to me. And the idea of “get outside in the sun and get some fresh air” also seems like a platitude - like when I was a kid parents saying “Go outside and play.” That just meant “Stop bothering me.” My windows open and fresh air comes in and I have big windows that let the sun in. Ta-dah!

But I do try to walk because I know it’s good for the little muscle I have remaining. Randy liked to take walks and there’s a path along the bay practically outside our door so we would walk around 2 miles as many days as possible. At the end he couldn’t go without me because he wasn’t completely steady and tended to list to one side.

So today the weather is beautiful so I took a goddam walk. And here’s what happened:

• The tide was out so there was lots of exposed mud. Note to self: look out the window to see where the tide is before you go out.

• Right at the beginning I came across a guy walking a dog and wearing a hat like the kind Randy used to wear and it gave me a little jolt of sad.

• I took some photos of flowers because I have a friend who sends me flower photos from her nature walks. This is a good thing - I never used to pay attention to small things around me, but since Randy died I try really hard to actually look around and notice where I am.

• There were lots of couples holding hands and it made me sad and I thought I might cry. When I go places where Randy was always with me I feel a sort of phantom limb syndrome - not like he’s dead, but like he’s missing.

So I felt that was enough sad for the day and I walked back home.