Walking.

Part 3

Today was a special day. For everyone else, not me. I was allowed to go outside for the first time in months. Months? Had it been that long? This bed, this gown, these white walls and tiny window has disguised the weeks I've spent here. 4 months the nurse said. One more and I can go home. Wherever that is. Everyone else is happy about it, but I can't allow myself to find joy in something I know nothing about.
My mom is walking with me today. This is supposed to be different from the other walks, the greens and reds of the outdoors is supposed to bring me back to reality. Isn't that where I am? Or is this all a dream?
I've decided to bring my notepad, it's with me most days now. It's how I communicate with the nurses, asking for more juice, a warmer blanket. I think I frustrate them with my inability, rather my refusal to speak. They know I can, but they can't figure out why I won't.
I've even been allowed to don a pair of shorts and a big t-shirt. It was a pajama set of mine, so my mom said, with little penguins swimming through the folds. My mom said I loved penguins. I guess they're cute.
We've picked a path through the garden, she said I once had a vegetable garden until the deer got to it. She showed me tomato plants, apparently I used to love them, I still do. They're my favorite.
We found a bench in a shaded corner of the garden. The sun was hot today, I'm assuming it's common for this area. The sun beats down on my tiny window warming me to wake each morning.
I took out my notepad and began to scribble my questions regarding my "sisters" from my dream. She explained slowly. "Your college years. You were in a sorority and you loved it. You still talk to some of the girls from your pledge class, 3 of them were going to be in your wedding."
My first thought was about a sorority, me? I hated girls. They were mean for the most part and I'm pretty sensitive. My second thought, more importantly, my wedding? I was getting married? I scratched my worried thoughts onto the frail white paper. My mom, I found out her name is Amy, smiled as she answered. "You think Matthew comes to visit for nothing? He loves you. Your-uh, accident tore him to pieces." Oh. The tall man. The guilt I feel weighs heavy on my shoulders. My entire circle of loved ones, whether or not I recognize them as so, had their lives on hold waiting for my recovery. My final question was something I believed I already knew the answer to. One simple word on the now filled piece of paper: Dad?
A sadness washed over her.
"He died when you were 18. You went back to school that following fall. Home was never the same for you."
Regardless of already knowing the answer, I couldn't help but feeling like I was missing something huge. Well obviously, more than one thing was missing.
We continued to walk, she filled me in on the basics of my life. I'm 26, a libra, and we live in North Carolina, by the beach. I like penguins and grilled cheese, and fishing was my favorite thing to do. I wrote to her that I could try to fit back into my old life, so my family could go back to normal. She smiled and patted my shoulder and simply said: "In due time love."

Today was a good day. The walk did me good, I think. I put the flowers we picked in a cup on my windowsill, and I find myself wandering around my room, trying to keep active. My legs ache, and my body is frail. I wonder when I will ever feel normal again. I wish I could remember everything, for this feels like such a long drawn out process. I wonder when I will feel the joy of normal activities, as opposed to just walking.