When I was told my father had passed away I wanted to go to Walden. He was in Australia before he left us. I wanted to go to the place that brings me closer to where he has gone.
It is like this for me, this urge to seek the serenity of still water where the jumble of words I have been told… when, how, who was with him…was it peaceful…? disintegrate into droplets.
But the sun was too cold, and I was too drained from the onslaught of death to swim. Not two months ago my sixteen year old daughter, and now my father.
So I walked around the perimeter of the pond, stopping every so often to gaze out into the stillness of the late afternoon, the gold and burnt orange brown reflected. Fall sliding down the hill into winter.
It was a soothing afternoon of reflections and memories. And a friend for company who understood our combined journey through grief.