Having seen my Son off on is adventure to Europe all on his own, all I gave him was a hat and a pair of socks, it was a day for the beach. In all our miles traveled we had not walked on a beach. From Fort Lauderdale to Savannah,D.C. to Maine we never strolled along the sands, watched the tide come in and marvel at the awesome force of the ocean I thought I would get close to the water and take a few pictures to send off and get back on the road but I was drawn to walk along the beach. Suddenly it was the end of the day. I somehow found a place by the highway to stay and get a ride back to retrieve the van while walking up the coast. And since my odometer stopped working a few days ago my only way to know close to the miles is by mile markers on the road I noticed I had traveled thirteen miles as the gull flies. I am not walking for a destination or miles walked to prove I can. I did not realize the hour of the day or the paint being lightly sanded off the canvas of my tiny world. Today, the miles don't matter.
And you would not believe the number of diabetics I met.
That's what matters.