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Walks and Talks



How did it begin, mom?

To be honest, honey, I cannot tell you.

However, what I can say is that for generations, we have walked.

Whether it be on the paved road of the neighborhood you find yourself looking at

Or the rocky path with olive trees in Sicily,

Where your grandpa and his father grew up,

We walked.

But, while we walked,

We also talked.

Whether big or small,

We walked and talked through it all.

When your grandpa felt lost

He asked my grandpa to go on a walk,

And on that walk, they talked.

Your grandfather told me about these walks,

And how from them he grew to talk,

And promised himself,

That what he had with his father,

We will have ourselves.


Though I cannot speak for the walks and talks our grandfathers had,

Let me tell you what it was like,

For your grandpa and mother to walk and talk.


We walked to talk about my feelings.

Sometimes I was excited,

Other times happy,

And my dad was proud.


Though a smile was present on my face,

There were those days,

When it flipped upside down.


Those days were the most valuable,

Because though water flowed down my cheeks,

They helped me grow,

Like a flower on a rainy day.


So, honey,

What I am about to say,

Will be about my gloomy days,

But never forget,

It wasn’t always that way.


A tear rolls down my cheek

I cannot speak

So, my dad grabs my shoes

And tells me to talk about my blues

He opens the front door,

To a road full of tall, timeless trees interlocking branches,

Like my dad holds my hand.

If they could speak,

They could tell you about my highs and lows.

Now it’s just me, my father, and nature

Because there are a lot of trees,

You hear the occasional chirp.

Because there is a paved road,

A car may drive by,

But none of these matters seems to matter

Because I have tears to dry.

Sometimes I used to name the squirrels,

Depending on my mood,

At the beginning I named them gloom,

In the middle, I named them moody,

But towards the end, I named them gratitude.

Though they were simply going about their day,

I felt like they were in my play,

Representing the rollercoaster of emotions I felt that day.

As I walk, I look above.

What I see, you would love.

For it is the vast blue, midday sky.

Maybe there are a few clouds,

But who cares when the sun is around?

I often looked down,

Don’t worry.

It’s not to frown.

It’s to see two sets of feet.

Walking peacefully down the street.

Finally, I look up to the side.

What do I see?

I see my dad

Looking at the same road,

Thinking about what to say

To comfort his daughter on this beautiful yet gloomy day.

He will say that I will be okay,

And must wipe the tears away,

Because he knows that one day,

Even today,

I will be having an amazing day.

But now I’m grown

I am living on my own.

Paving and walking a path of my own.

It’s hard, but I know,

That on my walks, I have grown.

Fear not he says,

For though we are done walking right now,

Every minute you will be growing somehow.

Whether it be while you walk,

Or while you talk,

Or while you think about your walks and talks.

I’m alone today,

No dad to save the day

But I have no reason fear,

For he is always near

Through the heart, eyes, and ears.

No matter what you say,

I will always find my way.

Because I was raised to walk

And thus, raised to talk.

And daughter,

Like my grandpa walked with my father,

And my father with me,

Walking and talking with you,

Will only make me glee.


Now I understand

You’ve come to take my hand,

And support me,

Through my best and my worst,

No matter the time of day,

Because just as you were my grandpa’s daughter

I am your daughter.


Mom, I think I am ready,

Ready to walk,

And thus, ready to talk.

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