I mention this because today I went for a pleasant walk in the woods with my 10 year old boy, a child who has met my Dad on more than one occasion in the past, and I thought that it would be a great idea to honor ‘Pops’ with a stroll along one of his favorite jaunts.
It’s a trail off the beaten path, within Wells State Park (a most enchanting place where I grew up) and my son readily agreed to accompany me on this brief outing.
After parking my car at the gate’s entrance, we ventured past the driveway and ambled along the dirt road that led to the trail. I pointed out various things to my son, and he seemed to absorb everything I said, inquiring here and there about the woods, about my Dad, his ashes, and how he died.
It was a calming hike, but tinged with a hint of melancholy. As the wind whistled high through the swaying pine trees, I felt the presence of my dear Dad and he seemed to be a part of the gentle wind. His spirit soothed my somewhat saddened visage. And knowing that at least part of his remains–his ashes–reside in a pond off this path brought a comfort to my soul.
The walk, with my dear stepson, proved to be healing, and I was glad to have his company. He asked pointed questions, and seemed to ponder the idea of death, and what becomes of a human being after the dark cloak of death embraces a departed soul. Like most people, he enjoyed seeing my Dad, whenever we happened to see him.
Coming full circle through the woods, we wended our way back to the car. All in all, a pleasurable stroll, more pleasurable knowing that we walked in the same footsteps of my dear Dad.
‘I felt you there, Pops, and I wish you well, wherever your spirit may be. I love you.’
Copyright, Paul Grignon, 2012, All Rights Reserved.