See the World

Today was crisp. It was a Fall kind of crisp, the kind of crisp that makes you want to lace up the dusty old running shoes and run until your lungs can't handle it anymore. I put Jack in the stroller and we explored in a way we haven't explored before. I left the sun shade open and I whispered to him:

"See the world."

He smiled up at me like he understood.

This is a phrase my Pap taught me when I was 14 and too young to understand the depth of the wisdom he was sharing.

"See the world, Erin," he would say as we took one of our many walks.

These were not walks around the block. These were long, drawn out, are they ever going to end because I have plans with my friends walks. These were walks to see the world. I would plow forward and he would stop me and point out a blue jay or the way the sun was shining through a cluster of leaves. These were walks that taught me to slow down and keep my head up. These were walks that taught me to understand the beauty surrounding us no matter what our surroundings were.

"See the world, Erin," he would say.

Sometimes these walks started at 5 am and didn't end until 9 am. At the beginning I was tired and grouchy and irritable, but by the end I felt calm and relaxed and excited. Sometimes we didn't say a lot. We walked in silence. That taught me there is power in silence. There is calm in quiet.

Sometimes when I take Jack for walks I feel footsteps behind me and when I turn to see who is there the path is empty. And even if it isn't my Pap, I like to think it's him smiling from behind as his Granddaughter takes his Great Grandson for a walk to see the world.