Memory Lane

I was talking to my Nana this weekend and she was talking about the walks that she used to take with my Poppop. My Poppop loved the walk. Prior to when he needed the assistance of a cane to get from place to place, he would walk everywhere. I remember him waking early to walk the boardwalk at the shore when I was little. He would always return with The New York Times and donuts from the bakery that I only ever knew as "The Donut Shop." Much later, when he and my Nana moved into an assisted living home, he walked the nearby college campus grounds. Still later, when my Nana worried about his health and steadiness, she would drive him to the local mall and he would walk for hours passing not yet opened suburban stores. Whether he walked under the beating sun along the boardwalk or under the false fluorescent lights of the local mall, he would always wear his "cap," as he had quite the collection. I still maintain that this was the New Yorker in him where walking, like breathing, is inextricably linked to life. It's funny the things that wind up being the most indelible memories when the people that you love pass away. My Poppop loved the Yankees, but I never find myself particularly sad at Yankee games. My Poppop loved to read biographies, yet you'll probably never see me tear up while standing in a bookstore in front of the latest politician/celebrity/historical figure's biography. Walks, however, sneak up on me. I walk constantly, since, like I said, walking might just be the official New York City pastime, and for some reason, on some walks, there is the memory of my Poppop "pop""pop"ping up. So, here's to my Poppop, who I happened to think about today as I walked home...

A Photo Essay of My Walk:

Happy Reading and Happy Remembrances...