Two Walks, One Day

Today I went on a walk with Etta around our neighborhood. We covered a little over a mile on our walk together. I had my music playing very softly in my headphones and I could hear the groans and noises Etta was making throughout our walk as her eyes filled with tiny tears for a brief moment. We looked at trees, snow, ice, and plants as we walked together. I told her some stories about this neighborhood, this city, this world that she is still getting adjusted to, but that I know and that I have adjusted to. I knew where I was going. I knew that she depended on me at that moment to help her learn and get back home.

I didn't know that while I was on a walk with Etta here in Utah, my Uncle, Jimmy Kuehnau, was in Sacramento, taking his last few breathes on this earth. My mom's brother passed away today. He succumbed to liver disease at the age of 55.

Admittedly, I didn't know Jimmy very well. I don't think I'd seen him in person in nearly 14 years. We were Facebook friends, although with the amount of activity on his Facebook page, I highly doubt he actually knew we were friends on the site...or that he knew he actually had a page at all. :)

But what I do know is that he is sorely missed. By me. By my mother. By my grandma. By my aunts , and my other uncle. And by his family, including his one adorable little granddaughter.

My grandpa passed away nearly nine years ago, and while it may have come sometime after the walk I had with Etta this morning, I believe that today, somewhere better than earth, a father was taking a similar walk with a child who was new to his environment.

Maybe my grandpa and my uncle covered a little over a mile on their walk together in the next world. Perhaps there was music playing softly. Maybe they were both shedding some tears reminiscing about the time they spent together on earth and sharing stories about the pride they have in their grandchildren. Maybe they looked at the scenery of wherever they are...trees, snow, ice, plants, etc. I bet my grandpa told some stories about the neighborhood, city or world that my uncle was going to need to adjust to, but that my grandpa had spent the last nine years becoming acquainted with. I believe my grandpa knew where to go and that my uncle was depending on him to help him get around.

And furthermore, I believe that they both have found their ways back home. I believe that my uncle has had a chance to meet his Father, his God. Maybe my grandpa reintroduced them.

Even though I didn't have regular contact with Jimmy, I'll miss him. 

I hope they enjoyed their walk with each other as much as I enjoyed mine with Etta.

And in 100 years, I hope to take a similar walk with Etta.