A few months ago I helped pack my brother and his family's belongings in a moving van for his move to the mountains of Colorado. Leaving me, the baby of the bunch, the last to remain in Louisville. Though I am a grown man and spend little time with my brother in a way the separation came too soon.
Some weeks later my son returned from the road. It was the dead of winter and we spent our evenings together in the front room with the fire to keep the draft down getting closer than we had been since he was very small and I rode him in the basket of our trike; he with his lttle helmet and the occasional balloon, or when we first threw the world-ball over the fence when he was sevenand frollicked in the park--care free. He left after another month,the hometown kids he had grown up with just as petty to him as always, he calls me evry few days and is happy on his own learning about life in his own way. Learning well,in leaps and bounds. I wanted him to stay but he was miserable, laying guilt and critcism only ailienated the rest of his family from him; he only keeps close to me. Still, he grew up and away too soon.
As I walk to encourage people like myself to do something healthy I remember my mother, gone too soon.
My middle school friend whose brother passed in his late twenties, too soon.
An Apache' shaman who my wife and I visited often just as my son was born who went to the hospital and never left, dying from diabetes at the same age as my mother, too soon.
In high school I had a friend who just a couple months ago befriended me on FB passed last night after amputation and dialysis. I had tried to call him a couple times, had intended to visit. Intended to help him in some way with my fund raising. Too soon.
Life smacks me in the face sometimes. Bites me in my asspirations.As the weeks till I begin the next walk speed away the time for action can not come too soon.