The Walk of Life

Of course I made it. I did my hike and made it to Wellesley in time for my daughter’s graduation. 

It was a great day, full of pomp, humility, humidity and lasting moments. Martha said it’s been four years, but it feels like we just dropped her off last week. 

A proud parent:

When I packed for the my hike, I had years of experience to help me plan on what to take. And I packed for any contingencie I might encounter. I was ready for the cold, the wet and the midges. I had more food than I could eat and maps for my travels. And my route had been vetted by an expert.  I was prepared, and the walk was still a challenge. 

My daughter is joining a whole host of other daughters and sons starting out on their own walk. The walk of life. We’ve prepared them as best we could. We’ve packed their rucksacks with as much good information, education and advice as we could fit in 20 odd years. 

But I know it is not enough.

My hike had a moveable goal; finish on the other side of Scotland. While I had aimed for St. Cyrus, I ended in Stonehaven. While I had intentions of hiking up one more high country pass, I settled for a walk down the River Dee. But I did it. At the end of the day, it was a simple walk across one of God’s great countries. 

For Lucia, it’s the first day of the Walk of Life. 

The Walk of Life. It’s hard. It doesn’t care. It gives unexpected joy. And unexpected pain. It forgives the stupid, hopefully punishes the bad and records the good. 

To my daughter, Alta Lucia, I hope the Peanut has a good walk. Her rucksack is about as well packed as it can be. Her mother and I are very proud of her. 

I know her Walk of Life is going to be a great hike.

Thus endth the sermon.