
Every day, it's the same. We begin our laps outside JCPenney, turn right toward Sears, then pass Old Navy as we head toward Macy's at the opposite end. After about three laps, we find a bench before going around another two or three times. On our "forced marches," as my dad says with a twinkle in his eye, we see the same people. The old guy fast asleep in a chair over his crossword puzzle, the out-of-a-movie cleaning lady with her hair pulled to the top of an expressionless face, the Hickory Farms salesgirl offering free samples, the Bath Fitter salesman pacing in circles around his display. We see walkers, grandfathers wheeling strollers, security guards walking their beats, and sometimes, older couples strolling arm in arm. We wonder about the stories behind the people we see.

We both tend to be on the quiet side, but in between the comfortable silences on our route, he tells me my sister called or a friend stopped by with meatballs and pasta. I describe my latest writing project and update him on my kids. Today, as we sat on a bench, he talked about missing my mom and the upcoming holidays without her. I squeezed his hand as emotion choked us both.
Dad begins his cardiac rehab on Monday, so our days at the mall are numbered, but they hold a special place in my heart - and I think in Dad's, too. Last week, he said, "Maybe after I'm driving again, we can meet at the mall to walk." Maybe we can.

Sarah, when my mom was able to walk, we did so everyday. She liked to walk outside, but on the coldest days, we would go to the mall. We saw the same people you've mentioned! Remembering them, and my walks with mom has brought a smile to my face. Thank you!
ReplyDeleteThanks, Susan. I thought of you today as we made our rounds. One of these days, I suppose I should go to the mall with a list in my hand for Christmas gifts, but I'm sure I'll look for the same people . . .
DeleteOh, Sarah, this was lovely. You have such a sweet and gentle approach to life, so obvious in your writing. I love those vets, and the WW2 variety are nothing short of inspiring.
ReplyDeleteThanks, Jo Ann.
DeleteThat your father even mentioned missing your mom and wondering about the upcoming holidays speaks volumes about how well he's doing, and how he feels about you.
ReplyDeleteI'm proud of him. It hasn't been easy, but he's carried on - in God's strength, no doubt. Thank you, Sherry.
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