We Walked

Last weekend was the MS WALK. This year it was just me and the kiddos. Unfortunately, Rowdy had class, so he couldn't do it with us. Something seemed so wrong about that, but at the same time so right. We were walking for him, after all.

The drive there was so peaceful. I was emotional...tearful...joyful for what I was about to do. I had raised money. I had been a part of something bigger than myself. I had helped. Enough to give my little family some hope.

Unfortunately, I was running late. I had read that you needed to be there bright and early due to parking. Whoever wrote that is the smartest person on earth.

I waited in traffic for a long time. I figured it was that way because the road was one lane and it was busy intersection. Finally, I realized that it wasn't those factors at all. I was waiting because everyone was turning into that stadium. Hundreds.

It took a very long time to park, and a longer time to walk into the stadium. As we were arriving at the front entrance to go on the path to the field, the walk had already started. It reminded me of a herd of elephants crammed into a small space. I could have easily just started there and gone with the flow of the crowd, but I wanted to start at the beginning. I needed to.

So, I fought my way against the crowd with my jogging stroller and daughter at hand. I probably said "excuse me" a dozen times and my stroller pierced and scraped the edge of the wall. Once I was free, I stood in awe of what was in front of me. Music blaring, booths cheering, throngs of people crazily dressed in their team attire just waiting for their turn to start. I wondered why they were just standing there until I realized that it took time for so many people to even get across that line. So, we waited, too.

Finally, it was our turn to move. I felt squished, jammed, packed in... just like that heard of elephants. It stayed that way the entire time. Four miles. Thousands of people. Slowly walking because it's all anyone could do. start. stop. start. stop. A walking traffic jam if I have ever seen one.

But the whole time, regardless of my very impatient nature, I relished in the moment. Four miles taking two hours is certainly not my ideal walking time, but it was okay. It was for my husband.

It was sunny and the air was crisp. We passed cherry blossoms and water and amazing views of the city. Lots to talk about. Lots to think about.

There were some moments for me. Moments of reflection that I have a hard time putting into words.

There were men/sons/brothers/husbands - women/daughters/sisters/wives in wheelchairs.

The same age as mine.

There was a man with a brace on his leg and a cane. He walked alone. Limping, sweating, slowly making his way with the rest of us.

There was a woman who wore a tag that said "I walk for my Husband." Her children wore shirts that said, "I walk for my Dad." Their children wore shirts that said, "I walk for my Grandpa."

How exactly do you put that into words?

As we walked across the finish line, my sweet son yelled, "We did it!"

Cowbells rang and there was plenty of cheering. Camera's flashed. Hot dogs and drinks lined the tables for all who returned.

After we ate and laughed and packed up to go, my son said it again, "We did it!"

Yes, we did.

We Walked.

I decided to compile all my MS posts on my sidebar to better access memories of our life with this disease.