Yesterday I went for a walk on the beach with the boys. In the sand. I haven’t walked in the sand for five weeks. Since I broke my leg to be precise. Left the cast at home and after walking in the soft sand for quite a while with no pain but utmost delight I have decided that it is time to put it away for good. Not to jeopardize the well-being of my leg in any way but because it feels the time is right for it. I took photos and followed the boys jumping on rocks and I let the sun sink in my hair and cheeks and I let the breeze twirl my hair all over and felt the sand with every square millimeter of my booted-not-casted foot. Freedom has different flavors and being out of a cast is one.
A journey of appreciation. Started out with me being angry at myself for the klutziness, went through waves of frustration for being stuck inside and then learned how far to push my body so I will not damage it further but strengthen it. The walk with the boys was a happy one. Tony was bewildered at my joy, he kept shaking his head smiling and saying it’s such a little thing after all, being able to walk, why so happy. Precisely the point. I could not go places you see. Because I could not walk. Now I can. I got my leg back. No limp. I can go places. Again. That’s why.
