October 23, 2024

A caveat before I launch into this. I have no intention here of questioning my parents' decisions. It took me having me own child to realize that I would never challenge another parent's heartfelt decisions. This is hard stuff. Mostly I just liked coming full circle with a part of my childhood that I remember very little about (and of which I can no longer ask my parents).

The Walk

These are such things the 62-year old man

Ponders on his daily four-mile walks,

Watching the path of my feet

Along these country roads

In a state far from the mountains

And years far from the childhood.

I like that I follow in the figurative footsteps

Of my paternal grandfather's daily walks

Of three miles, five miles, maybe eight miles,

Loyal neighborhood dog at his side,

Two or three times a year his grandchildren.

Was there a time he might have wondered

If my future would have been in doubt?

Would that grandfather have concurred

With my parents' worst fears

That the baby boy's step seemed a touch peculiar?

Did all agree with this infantile need

To ensure my direction

Through orthopedic correction

At such a young age,

Early developmental stage,

The indication of a preoccupation

In giving your child every advantage,

Also evidenced by speech sessions

And painful orthodontic appointments

Never changing the parents' beliefs

In the path that would prevail.

Thanks to the best of medical expertise,

The boy first braved braces on his feet.

Later his shoes got got tied together at night,

Apparent common treatment

For a 1960s pigeon-toed child.

These remedies of the time are now

Widely known as ineffective panaceas.

Most of us will outgrow the problem,

Something shown as I walk these miles.

Still, I wonder of what I dreamed those years ago,

Bound and constricted, the Western lotus,

While I tossed and turned in my little bed.

Because what could not be bound

Was my indifference to any orientation

Through the accumulation of decades

When I was not finding my way

(Even with the toes facing the same way).

This delusion of deployment

Seems to bring me much enjoyment

As I return to a life of unemployment

Feeling incredibly youthful and buoyant.