Garden of Freedom

• date: 05/06/05
• time: evening
• weather: 51 ºF, light rain, wind E/NE at 14 mph
• mileage: today-0, week-18.2, year-169.3
• resting (bpm): 62
• after workout (bpm): n/a
• weight: +26

comments:

I wanted to think. I’m much better at it when I’m moving. Though long distance running affords ample time and motion, I find it too extreme, either too jarring or too trance inducing, to sort through and organize my thoughts. Coupled with my still tired legs and the prospect of sage counsel, I decided to walk through the Garden of Freedom.

The inscription on the central monument takes from the Declaration of Independence.

“… with the firm reliance on the protection of divine Providence, we mutually pledge to each other our Lives, our Fortunes and our sacred Honor.”

I thought of Niece and Nephew. They are fortunate in youth, in loving parents and doting aunts, uncles and grandparents. They require 4th grade math just to calculate all their cousins and friends. They were also born to a land, its citizens pledged to the common good. They are at liberty to pursue health and happiness. In both concerns, they are well on their way.

I, on the other hand, have hit a rough patch in my pursuits. Rejection here, rejection there, no thanks seemingly everywhere. I guess I was looking for a little clarity and inspiration. Mom is always good for that. I felt drops starting to come down on my head. I had wandered from the edge of the garden to the reception center. Maybe I could duck in there until the rain passes. Closed. Yeah, that’s right. The Garden of Freedom was closed. Irony aside, I surmised I must have been walking for over an hour. I took a more direct path back to the car. I looked down at the bronze plaque that marks my mother’s grave. Dignified, discrete. That is surely the way she wanted it.

“Thanks for listening. I can always count on you.”

I nodded to the security guard who held open the gate to allow my exit. I flicked on the intermittent wipers. The worst of the rain had passed.