Walking Each Other Home


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.