Page 19 - Father Earth, Daughter Sky

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Wood Thrush / Legacy
in the forest. Here is a bird in whose
strain the story is told . . . Whenever
a man hears it he is young, and
Nature is in her spring; whenever he
hears it, it is a new world and a free
country, and the gates of heaven are
not shut against him.
I realized Dad’s recorded dreams and journey were
his gift to me. My gift back to him was to carry his
dreams with me and share them with others. With this
gift, I began to feel what it was like to be truly passion-
ate about something in life. I realized that the passage
he wrote about me was his hope that I would discover
authenticity and passion. He probably recognized that I
had become distracted with children and family, and had
moved off center or out of balance. He was observing
the potential in me, and I’m grateful now that he wrote
this in his journal. It served as a catalyst to my seeking
and my desire to understand myself on a deeper level.
I knew it would be a process, but I was impatient
to feel whole. I initiated a routine of walking around a
hometown state park, Lake Alma, every chance I could.
The spring after Dad died, I bundled up to walk the two-
mile bike path around the lake. The cold wind deterred
most people, but I found that by wearing a down coat