Author’s note: After Nathaniel died two years ago, I started to write “Dear Nan (Nathaniel)” letters in my journal. Although the frequency varied, the poignancy of each conversation did not, deepening our father/son connection. Today’s blog continues in that spirit.
Dear Nan,
Today we launched Walking with Nathaniel South, almost a full month later than last spring’s journey to Boston. Today’s weather is definitely hotter and more humid than April 24, 2012. You seem eager to begin, and mom and I comply. We head out the front door just like the ancient pilgrims of the Camino de Santiago. However, the family is incomplete; Carrie is 
conspicuously absent from our company. Mom sets the pace down College Hill Drive toward Creek Road, both of us knowing too well that yours is never reasonable. I’m a bit nervous, unsure if heading south in May makes good temperature sense. You notice my anxiety and reassure me.
My brand new Brooks Adrenaline GTS with red side stripes pay homage to the running shoe you always held in high regard. They practically walk on their own. Mom’s walking company lasts for about a mile and a half, and “off to school she gaily goes.” I will miss her. Then it’s just we two.
You then suggest that we stop to pay tribute to where you were “born to the universe” on April 15, 2011. It’s time for me to revisit this sacred spot where eternal life began for you. We share a sacred moment in silence. I lay my 
backpack where you left the earth plane. Like the Bryn Mawr Birth Center where you were born 26 years ago, I cradle you in fatherly love, craving your physical presence but accepting instead the deep beauty of nature that totally envelopes me. It knows how to comfort my deep loss. It’s time to move on, you suggest, and I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready to do so. Do you mean for this walk or in my life?
Then comes the second stop of the day at Cardinal Camera where Mary signs my new pilgrim’s passport, already the 3rd name on this year’s credentials–mom’s, yours, and hers. It’s official, I’m a pilgrim again. The switch from Eastern Daylight Savings Time to Eastern Camino Time is abrupt and requires adjustment. Oh, now I remember–take time to observe, pay attention to what’s around you, breathe in and out, be present. This takes some getting used to. By Concordville, I sink into a rhythm and let body, mind, and spirit take over. They know how to work as a team. You’re a good walking coach, too.
You then suggest that we pause a moment at Target Master on Route 202. I resist, but then give in to your invitation. It’s time to forgive. I do, but why is that still so hard for me to do?
Lunch, a combination of items from Panera’s Whole Foods, and Trader Joe’s, comes to the rescue. I’m already running on empty. Joe (not Trader), a customer, reads fatigue and hunger on my face and let’s me step in front of him to pay for my three small items before his full cart. We talk briefly. You’re right, Nathaniel, there are still kind people in the world, and he’s definitely one of them. You remind me to pay that one forward the next time an opportunity arises.
The stop at Staples to laminate photos of Brad S. and Robert, my brother, refreshes me. The store’s air-conditioning is a relief from the heat. The walking photo collection has now grown to include Nathaniel, Bradley S., David S., Erik W., and Robert. I also tuck in a photo of Judy and Carrie. Our Walking with Nathaniel Team is complete, and I’m no longer alone.
Well, so much for my first estimate of a 13-mile day–it’s more like 16.75 miles. I’ll bank the extra steps for future use. (Anyone out there interested in getting a low-interest “Step Loan” from DNA’s Credit Union? More on that possibility later.) For now, we’ve got to rest for tomorrow’s visit to Wilmington Friends School. You probably aren’t as tired as I am, but I appreciate your understanding of my physical limitations.
“Walking with Nathaniel South” is off to a wonderful start. Didn’t we both do a fantastic job? I love how you always work with me.
Goodnight, dear son!
