A walk with an old friend

Today I took my friend to walk in the canyon just beyond my neighborhood. A great start to a new year, but perhaps the last year of my friend's life. When he was younger, my friend could walk or run for miles and I would tire easily and stop and he would silently plead to go a few more miles. In Maryland, we would walk in the snow that fell infrequently in the winter and years later in California, we'd walk in the evening as the sun set over the ocean.

Lately, however, we haven't walked as much. I've been too busy to walk. Busy with the newer parts of my life; the parts that need constant tending and attention. My friend has never complained and he has waited patiently for that perfect moment when friends can walk in silence; that time when companionship means more than words.

So today, we walked again. It has been some time; in fact the last time we went, we ran and he tired quickly. Age has taken its toll on him. As we walked, I could hear his labored breathing and I regretted taking him along because it hurt me to hear the guttural sounds of air entering old lungs. When we walked I could sense his happiness; the joy in being free to smell the grass and the scents of animals that creep around in the night. And though my friend's days are almost gone, I will tend to him and we will walk together like we did before.