Last week was a busy and rough one for me. Tons going on, very little time to myself. I was absent from here. Things were crazy at work and at home. And on Thursday, I had one of the worst traffic days I’ve had in a while – Abbie and I didn’t get home until about 6:45 (I left work at 5). In general, I was in a pretty crabby mood and just wanted to get home.
It happened when I was just about there. I had turned onto the road our neighborhood is off of. I was waiting at the last red light of my commute. Abbie was in the backseat playing on my kindle (thank goodness I had it with me that day – sometimes screen time is necessary). As I sat there at the red light, my mind wandered… and found my Grandma. She would’ve walked here. She would have loved walking here.
The area we live in is pretty walking friendly. There are sidewalks in our neighborhood and down the street that leads to the main road. If you really want to, you can walk to the shopping center that’s nearby. My grandma loved to walk, and walked everywhere. She was fiercely independent, and walking wherever she needed to go was a huge part of her independence. Grandma and her family fled the Holocaust to New York City, where walking was her freedom, her independence. Really, it was her life.
When I think of my grandma, I nearly always think of her walking. Around my parents’ neighborhood with my sisters and I. Around New York with me when I would visit my grandparents as a kid. Desperate to get outside and walk anywhere once she was in the nursing home. Always, always walking.
In truth, I wasn’t close to my Grandma when she was with us. I was much closer to my Grandpa and always preferred him. I see things that remind me of him nearly every day, but this was the first moment I really felt Grandma with me since she’s been gone. I was in tears when I pulled up to our house moments later. I still tear up when I think about it.
It’s amazing the things you remember, and the way things hit you out of the blue. My grandma was just who I needed that day – to remember, and to remind me to to keep walking – always moving forward.
Love and miss you, Grandma. Thanks for the reminder.