The descent

Sundays will forever hold a special place in my heart.
Between blue-skied boat days with Dad, and sitting around the Pflug's dinner table with the only real family I've ever known, it easily became my favorite day of the week.
Today is the first Sunday of September, and everything feels so right outside this morning. . .

There's a bird that keeps circling around the biggest tree in my backyard. The limbs of it keep wiggling in the wind, and I watch as he let's himself fall into the breeze and ride it; wings spread taking in this new September air.

It's that moment of calm I felt yesterday that made me smile as I hoped it would become I feeling I might come to know more often. It was during my bike ride; the leisurely, casual bike ride I couldn't resist taking down to Princeton when I walked out with my keys in my hand and saw my beg practically begging for me in the sunlight.

It's funny how much further away that Starbucks became with a heavy bag slung over my shoulder, humidity sticking my denim to my legs, and the undeniable fact that there were suddenly a lot more hills en route than I remember.

 Ok, so maybe there weren't, but my legs and my shortness of breath were evident that I really could have just taken the drive with the windows down.

Forty-five minutes later, I parked my bike at Starbucks. I put myself together in the bathroom, and promised myself to enjoy my coffee, and my lunch plans, and not spend the day dreading the ride home.

I didn't.
I actually forgot about it until saying goodbye, and trying to recall the combination for my lock. I started off with my ipod, switched hip-hop for Dave, and took my time pedaling to the music.

Before the end of " Crash," I realized the whole ride was downhill.

I flipped my sunglasses down and held my arms out, palms up, and let my legs enjoy the rest and put my smile to work.

That was it. . .

My whole life, I've been fighting and struggling up that hill. For years, life made it so steep I thought I'd start slipping backward; I stood up and pedaled stronger.

In the lull between inclines, I inadvertently cranked up my gears to keep that challenge, to maintain my momentum, to motivate myself through the next push.

Somewhere during those years of innocence, I stopped looking for the top; I couldn't. I think a part of me forgot that it might exist, and just hoped I would have the energy to fight another day, every day. One day stronger, one day closer, to something that I never even knew, but I couldn't wait to experience; the end of the climb.

Here it is.

Suddenly, I'm coasting through and instead of focusing on the climb, I can finally enjoy this ride. 

Today, feels different. The sky, yep, still blue.

My stomach is already growling for dinner at the Pflugs.

 And it will be, yet another Sunday, with no boat, and no Dad. 

But today, finally, that feels...ok.

I made it to the other side, and I know that today is his gift to me to tell me how proud he is for chugging along with out him. Today, is the most beautiful Sunday because it begins my descent, and it's leading me to love;It's leading me home.