She Walks

“Get up! It’s time to walk!” Her voice was clear through the receiver.

“Mom, It’s 8 AM,” I said rolling over. For the first time in four years, I had no job to return to, no rush hour traffic to push through, no clients to meet, nowhere to go. I lost part of my identity!

“You said you were going to get up every day like you were going to work.”

She was right. I did say that. Didn‘t I? This was what I wanted, time to write that novel, produce the play, get my master's degree. Today I didn’t feel like it. I didn’t want to acknowledge the dawn. I covered my face with the sheet, shielding the rising sun from my eyes.

“Get up!” She said. “Its time to walk!”
It was four years since she first felt weak, had soreness in her joints and paleness covering her face. First, they told her it was stress, then it was Lupus. And when Pop got sick, she put her own pain aside to care for him. When he was gone, she mourned like the rest of us.

When everyone thought she would sink into depression, she said: “I think I am going to walk today“. When everyone told her to stop, sit down you are sick, she said I am not, and she walked on.

She began her day with a prayer. She knew she was asking for a miracle from God. Then a juice made of greens to nourish her body and mind. She crossed the street into a park she had not visited in years. At first, her stride was slow, her joints weak, but as the flowers blossomed, so did she. When she returned six months later for her regular appointment, the Lupus was gone.

She walked through loneliness, through sorrow, through illness, through doubt to wellness.

She taught me how to walk once, and now she would teach me again.

“Get up!” She said. “It’s time to walk!”

And I did.