At dinner at a really nice, up-
scale Mexican restaurant in
Phoenix, he and his wife were
joined by their daughter by
his late wife and the two
grandchildren. Five days
previously, their daughter had
completed a thirty-five mile
trail run in Northern Arizona.
While looking across the table
at her, he thought of the awk-
ward, gangly, high school kid
running around the track and
then he thought about all
the years in between and the
grief over her mother’s tragic
death and how his daughter kept
it together through therapy and
the love and support of friends
and how she had found her vision
quest through trail running
and then five days ago running,
by invitation, through the sacred,
Navajo land of enchantment as she,
the beautiful, spiritual child
described it in detail as they
inhaled the gourmet, street tacos
and tossed back classic Margaritas.
What a wonderful love poem to Rachael…and a survival poem for a great family!
[What happened to the dinner salads and dinner rolls of the past?]
Only the musings of a father … as it should be … the child moves on … to places unknown to us.
Sweet words.
Tho I may not run, nor Ironman Lou, in dreams we do.
But I will be able to walk again w/o hip cast after my visit to your town’s hospital for a 3-hr surgery slot Thursday a.m. Deterioating, bad since the foot fix Jan.22 led to 2 June dislocations. what next? I begin to feel like the song: the hip bone’s connected to the….I hear the word of the Lord!