Lost in Thought

The park benches are angled and face one another.
Dedicated to a husband and wife. His bench reads
“run, run, run” and hers is “walk, walk, walk.”
Frequently I pondered how they viewed life
here by the lake. Perhaps he was driven in
his profession, and she tried to help him slow down.

Pondering the same dilemma of running versus
walking, I muse if I am in a hurry or
should I take time to reflect upon nature’s beauty
as I listen to the birds and ducks? Or I might slow
the walk and sit on the bench. Perhaps just be.
These mini-retreats restore my spirit.

She passed twenty-four years ago; yet,
I can still hear her voice and words in my
heart as if we had a conversation a few
moments ago: my mother, Mary Elizabeth.
I reflected on her family tree of Dolan, Connor,
Ryan, Connell, O’Neil, Keating and Mooney.

Fascinating how the two sides of the family
left Ireland and Poland to settle in Massachusetts
and Connecticut. Life is precious.  So, yes, I still
meditate and contemplate my life and parents and
give silent thanks that they showed me love,
faith and the importance of family.