He walked more slowly now, his footing carefully placed, stepping over exposed roots and other hidden obstacles. His grandson walked close to him, ready to catch him if need be. Can you smell the wildflowers he asked, and the rainbow of tulips on both sides of the path? Can you hear the running water from the same stream I swam in as a kid? I do, Pops, I see it all through your eyes.
They stopped by the stream, cupped their hands, drank the cool water, and rested for a minute before moving ahead. I made this walking stick, you know, I found it on a Sunday walk with your mom. True, it's just a stick, but I saw something more than that. I saw the face of an angel, nature-carved, and I had to have it. You can have it when I'm gone.
They were halfway home when they came upon the fire pit, the place where a fire was built, and bones were warmed. A thermos of hot chocolate and a PBJ tasting better than any fast food. I built this pit, he told his grandson. When you were just a gleam in your daddy's eyes. The night air was getting colder by the minute, so they put out the fire and headed home.
Here's the wandering man, Grama said as she helped take off his coat, replaced with a warm blanket she had set near the fireplace. Did you have many adventures she asked. But sleep caught up with him, and there was no answer. He said goodbye to his grama and bent to kiss his pops' forehead, whispering a thank-you for the wonderful day.
As he got into his car and began to drive away, he looked back and saw his pops waving goodbye from the window, probably wondering the same thing he was, as he returned the wave and kept on going.
Mike 2026
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