I moaned, as a child
If made to go on a walk.
‘It’s good for you,’ he’d say.
As if I cared.
Those miles,
Wasted space in a day.
Each step a trial
Each foot a mile.
Pointless to ask, ‘Are we there yet?’
We never were.
*
Later, lost in my inarticulacy
Him with his opinions, me with my frustrations,
I walked away.
Into a manhood
Of work, love, marriage.
I walked down the aisle
And he grinned.
Fit to burst.
Both of us men,
Walking around each other.
This new status quo,
Never getting us anywhere…
*
One day, a call.
‘I’m going on a walk.’
‘Where?’
‘Just a walk. Would you…?’
*
It’s never ‘just’ anything,
Not with him.
But I joined in,
On the outside of his companions.
Walking and watching:
The laughter, the ease, the baggage easily shared.
I was sad when it ended.
‘Have we got there already?’
‘Not yet,’ he’d say, even when we had.
*
Other walks followed
And we walked ourselves
Until we met somewhere beyond our past,
Somewhere where understanding resides.
*
For years we walked,
Into the distance,
Across paths and our past,
Finding views and vistas,
Friendship and love.
*
I still walk.
He’s there.
Somewhere.
These days, he’s the one who listens.
And I no longer want to know if we’re there yet.
Chelsea has encouraged us to write some free verse. I’d not thought I would have a subject but then I got talking about how my relationship with my father changed as a result of us beginning a series of long distance walks after her retired in the 1980s. This is the result. If you’d like to give free verse a go and have the benefit of Chel’s insightful thoughts (she’s done wonders on other of my poems) click here
TanGental 
This is lovely and so true of what your relationship with your dad was like….. How it grew and developed. How come relationships improve as we get older to be perfect when one is deceased.
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Yes time and maturity helped us both in the end. How’s Ruby?
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Yes you both got there in the end thanks to the walking.
As to Ruby it’s not easy but she’s a star she allows us to change her dressing three times a day with no fuss at all from her!
Today way is day 10 since her op and the first day in a week that we have not had to go to the Vetinary Hospital at Guildford to have it done.
There’s still worry that the skin flap they made might die … The amazing vet is causious but hopeful.
Hope that’s not too much information. She waved a paw to dog 💜💜
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Not at all. Given what Jenni overshares, it was almost PG…
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Thank you, fingers crossed 🤞 anyway 💜
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I’m pretty sure that most of us, if not all, never quite get there. That may be the answer to the ultimate question!
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It may well be the other end of not starting from here…
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Now, that is deep and would require a very long walk to talk through!
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A marvellous tribute to the man who showed you the way
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He did shine a light eventually
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A great poem. I love how our relationships with our parents evolve – if we are lucky.
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Indeed I was lucky to claw back a good relationship with him eventually
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A terrific poem, Geoff.
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Thanks John
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😊
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This is really lovely–thank you!
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Thank you Rebecca
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Brought a tear (actually several) … heartbreaking.
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Aw sorry, not sorry..
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A great poem about how we finally figure it all out when we get old enough and a nice tribute to the companion on your walks!
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My dad loved walking and setting the world to rights. He’s still trudging (slightly downhill!) Somewhere bending some angel’s ear on the price of seed potatoes or the lack of public toilets…
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I can so relate to that, Geoff!
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I’m glad. It just seemed right
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A lovely tribute to your father, and the changing relationship as people grow older.
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We learn, happily on our cases not too late…
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I love the honest discussion of the emerging of a different and more mature relationship with your father over time and many walks.
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Thank you. It’s been good to reminisce.
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its sometimes too easy to look ahead of ourselves , we not in the moment
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A wonderful tribute to your father, Geofff… 💞
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Thank you Bette
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I so enjoyed that Geoff. One to set the mental wheels in motion…My own Dad loved walking and cycling, & how many of the hoi polloi owned cars in the 30s and 40s? He never did own a car or drive, and we four children used our legs a lot…caught buses or trains. It was good practice for living in the Welsh mountains in WW2 in Wales….I stlll don’t drive, but have a handsome chauffeur…
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My parents first car was in the 60s and such an exciting addition even if my biggest memory is bing dribbled on by the dog!!
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