See this man, I don't know him, but I watched him on these stairs today. I observed him slowly climb down this long flight of steps to the beach, but before he reached the sand, I noticed he was carrying a single rose in his hand. He raised his arm at one point and brought the rose to his nose and then appeared to kiss it. He then left the rose on the railing of the stairs and continued his journey toward the ocean and I pondered:
What is his story?
Was that rose for someone he lost?
Had he lost a spouse, a parent, a child like me?
Was it for himself?
Does he do this often?
How does he get through his day?
Is he sad or happy or both?
What is his story?
There are 137 steps on this staircase. Prior to pregnancy, I was able run, sometimes sprint up them over 10, 12 times in a row.
Now, I am working to get up one flight of them or more. I take my time and I only do what I can. This stairs are symbolic for me because this is the same spot we spread some of our boys ashes in a memorial paddle out and I these are the stairs I used to walk/run with ease, without a second thought. Now, they symbolize the journey to heal and move forward. I may never know that strangers story, but I do what it means to climb those stairs physically and metaphorically, one very slow step at a time.
