Walking and Mothers Day

I don’t know where to start this post, so I’ll start with the walking and maybe get to Mothers Day…maybe not.

Yesterday and today Sonya and I walked the Monon. The Monon is a walking/biking path in Indianapolis where the former Monon Train Line ran. We’ve walked the Monon for as long as I can remember, but now it seems harder. We walked it when were young 20-somethings trying to get foxy for my wedding. We walked it with Jess when she and I were pregnant. We walked it with the girls last fall before the weather got cold.

Before the girls were diagnosed with SMA1, Jake and I bought a double jogging stroller in hopes of running with them this spring. Now, I see these joggers about every half mile of our walk and I think ‘that should be me’. I should be the one pushing the jogger with my two adorable girlies enjoying the ride. I should be the one stopping along the White River bridge to let the girls look at the ducks. I should be the one stopping at the blind school to let the girls listen to the wind chimes. I should be the one stopping at the sno-cone stand in Broad Ripple to get the girls a sweet treat.

But, it isn’t me. Instead I am empty-handed; empty hearted. Instead of pushing a stroller, I am pushing myself with all of my might to make it to the next day. Instead of passing the parents of twins and giving them my ‘knowing’ look, I am diverting my eye(s) so that floods of emotions don’t hit me and break me down right there. And now, I think about that jogging stroller, sitting in the garage, my girls never getting to try it out.

Once, when Jake and I took the girls to the trail, we parked beside the caboose and before we even got onto the trail, both girls needed their diapers changed. We stopped at the gazebo to change them and let them sit in the shade and enjoy the sights before our walk started. As soon as we loaded them back up into the stroller, Sydney fell asleep, but Carynne stayed awake almost the entire ride. She didn’t make a sound; just sat in the stroller and took it all in. It was a weekday, mid-afternoon, so the trail was pretty quiet, but I think she loved it that way. Now, it is hard to pass that gazebo and not think about that little chunk of time when the world stood still for us.

I don’t think I want to write about Mothers Day…there’s not much to say. It sucked.