In thanks to the wonderful generosity of people, I would eventually safely finish my cross country journey. But a year ago today, while taking my first steps from the chilly November waters of the Atlantic Ocean, that eventual reality was but a fantasy, and certainly the furthest one from my mind. I took those first steps (about a mile) with my two biggest fans, mom and dad, at my side. And then it was off by myself, a theme that would be all too common for me over the course of the next 8 months. Solidarity, and nothing but my thoughts. 365 days ago today, I wasn’t sure I would survive the day, let alone 196 of them. Yes, I enjoyed the walk that first day, yet the enjoyment of it was tempered by my chief concern: where would I spend the night? The first couple weeks were tough, camping out in a lot of random & scary places (I never posted the entire truth about some of them, concerned my mom would have a heart attack). And just as brutal as some of the places were was having to spend an entire day walking worrying about it. But that first night, I got a preview of something that would make my journey 1,000 times easier than it would have been otherwise: the brotherhood of firefighters. Indeed, it was as much a blessing for my mom as it was for me. With plans to meet up for dinner that evening with my parents (who drove what it took me the entire day to walk in 10 minutes), I was so glad my mom was able to see me in a safe place. Perhaps it put her mind at ease just a TINY bit. I certainly started my journey with a grand dreams, not only to reach the Pacific Ocean, but more importantly, a dream that the message I hoped to spread would be heard and appreciated by others. One of those dreams was put to rest. I reached the Pacific Ocean and have NO desire to ever do it again. One dream continues on in me, and will so until I have taken my final steps in this wonderful journey we call life, a journey that everyone, wherever we are from, all share together.
Posted on: Sun, 17 Nov 2013 15:25:06 +0000