Walking Each Other Home

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I've always loved this photograph of my Mom and me.  We lived in Germany at the time and we were walking back home from one our little hikes around the countryside.  I remember how she would hold my hand tightly so I wouldn't veer off the trail into the brush.  My Mother would guide me and show me the way.  I always felt a certain peace when she held my hand.

On our walks,  Mom would usually have binoculars around her neck.  She loved to birdwatch.  She would give me her binoculars, point at a small flower, and I would make the flower bigger through the lens. It felt like magic to me then.  She taught me to do that; to notice little things in nature and expand them through my lens.  I still do that today.  "Never walk so fast that you don't notice," she would say.  She gave the best advice.

I had the privilege of being with her as she passed on.  I held her hand tightly like she always did mine.  It was my turn to walk her home.  I hope she felt that certain peace I always felt with her.  

Sometimes,  I can still feel her hand in mine and it reminds me to slow down and just notice.