pieces and ponderings

I went for a walk with my daughter yesterday…well, kind of.  It was a walk of sorts.  I had mentioned to my children who were gathered in our kitchen (their favorite place to hang out) that I was going for a walk.  But it was damp and wet out, from thundershowers, so I decided that getting on the elliptical was a better way to go.  My daughter piped up, “Oh, I want to go with you on a walk.”  I explained to her that I was actually going to spend some time on the elliptical, but she followed me to my bedroom anyway, and plopped down in the rocking chair that sits in a corner as I turned on a cd that she had recently made for me.

I climbed aboard the piece of workout equipment as the latest from “Owl City,” began playing on the stereo.  As I began walking, Amy informed me that when I was finished I could sit in the chair while she took her turn on the elliptical.  That seemed fine with me.

As different “Owl City” tunes began to play, Amy would say things like, “Oh, I like this one.”  Or “Listen to these lyrics.” Or “This one is funny.”  I’ve had that cd for about a week, but hadn’t listened all the way through it, and it was fun hearing my daughter share why she liked this and that song.

I finished my time walking and Amy hopped up and stepped onto the elliptical.  I didn’t sit in the chair, but lay down on my bed instead.  Unable to reset the “shuffle” control on the cd player, Amy had gotten her ipod and plugged it in, so we had even more “Owl City” music to listen to.

Throughout our “walk” we talked back and forth just like we would on a real walk.  And I eventually dozed off as I lay on the bed and she walked on the elliptical…not what would happen on a real walk…but I awoke after a few minutes and she was still going, so we talked some more.

I really enjoyed that time together…walking.  In ways it was a snapshot of our time together over the last year.  Because of problems associated with her epilepsy, Amy didn’t go away for college after graduating from high school.  She did her first year at a local community college close to home…12 minutes from our house…and that was far enough for her to go in her parents’ opinion.

I remember her first day of class last August…a Monday after seizure symptoms on the previous Sunday.  I had taken her and dropped her off for her classes and went back home and spent the morning cleaning anything and everything as I prayed that she wouldn’t have any epilepsy-related problems.  She made it through that first day and we began to make the adjustments to her being in a bigger place, where her health issues weren’t known as they had been at her high school.

She learned how to talk to her teachers and counselors about her health and I learned how to encourage her to do so.  As I write this, she is in her third term and is able to communicate her hard health situation with more ease and even humor.

This past year…this extra year we have had with Amy at home…has been a gift to her daddy and me.  She spent Saturdays working with her dad.  We had weekday afternoons together and many special Friday lunches of fruit smoothies and waffle fries, our “Yay, it’s Friday” treat.  She was able to rest when she needed to and we learned to offer support and begin learning to let go.

So when this August rolls around and it’s coming quickly, her dad and I will travel with her to the school she has chosen and help her unpack her belongings.  I can’t imagine what saying good-bye will feel like.  I’m not going to think about that now.  I’m just going to jump at any chance I have in the next month to go on walks with my daughter.