1 Year

Several years ago, I was in a class where the speaker asked the question, "What is your favorite childhood memory?" This is mine:

This rusted wheelbarrow means more to me than cupcakes or cute shoes. My dad used it when we were growing up. When we first moved to Utah, he had to clear all the rocks from our front yard so that he could plant grass. He would pile the rocks in this wheelbarrow and then walk them down to the end of the subdivision to dump them. He would let me ride on the top of the rocks. It was a long walk. On the return trip, I would ride in the empty wheelbarrow. That's my favorite childhood memory. My dad, me and this green wheelbarrow, on a long walk together.

One year ago today, at 9:45 am, my world changed forever. Changed directions. Tilted off its axis. My dad had to go, and we had to watch him leave. Memories that are so vivid they feel like they will swallow me. I held his hand and watched him take his last breath. This giant of a man who carried me in the wheelbarrow, who called me everyday and was my best friend. In that moment, the deepest part of me went quiet. A sadness settled into that space and I imagine that it will always remain.

Life seems to take you on a path that you never intended to walk. Some of the experiences along the way add a heavy weight to the journey. There are days and even moments when, I just don't like the journey anymore. But I keep walking. Every mile or so, the weight starts to feel just a bit lighter, and then I realize......I am being carried in a wheelbarrow.