Running is My Therapy

Yesterday on our way back from St. Louis we stopped part-way at my grandparents' old house because my mom had some estate issues to deal with.  As I stood in the house I knew it would probably be the last time I would ever be there and I started to feel my chest tighten.  The house may no longer be my grandparents' home, but I still feel their presence when I am there.  When I look at the kitchen table I can picture my grandparents playing "Rook".  I can hear their voices.  I see them in every nick nack, every picture, every piece of furniture.

I had to leave and went outside for a run.  The closer I got to the street the more obvious it was that tears were going to come.  As I took off running a big, fat tear began to slowly roll down my cheek and I struggled to breathe.  The farther I went the easier it was to breathe and the more at peace I began to feel.  I don't know what awaits us when we leave this world, but I choose to hope there is an afterlife.  Afterall there are many things in this world I no longer believe in and people who are no longer here, but love and hope, those two things will never die. 

With both my grandparents at my college graduation.