walking

WALKING

December 2, 2025

He began taking steps in late October.

I thought I would write about it right away,  
but the truth is, these days if I do not start something while he is napping,  
by the time I look up he is three name calls away,  
grinning and gone.

I still hold him for walks, but not as much.  
A lot less.  
And every time I notice, it feels like a small shift in both of us.  
A change we are living in real time.

Out of habit or need we still reach for each other.  
My hand goes out before my mind remembers he can stand on his own.  
His hand still finds my leg, my fingers, the fabric of my pants.  
We are learning what it means to move together without always being carried.

People warned us about this stage.  
We did not like the warning.  
It sounded like loss.  
Like something to fear.

Walking is not a problem.  
It is a gift.  
A gift not everyone gets.

He gets it,  
and every day he gives it back to us.  
He improves in plain sight, finding new balance, new reach.

Even his stumbles feel intentional now.  
Little choices.  
Little experiments in closeness.

He falls on purpose to be held.  
Flopping and smiling into our arms.  
Unfiltered comedic love.

His legs still give way sometimes.  
He drops on his Coterie cushion, soft and unbothered,  
then rises again like nothing happened.  
No drama.  
Just the next attempt.  
The next bit of courage.
 
Watching him reminds me that falling is not the opposite of progress.  
Stopping is.

He walks.  
He falls.  
He gets up.  
He keeps going.

It is inspiring in a way adults forget.