Years

"Years," the woman whispered. "It has been years?"

She looked out across the ocean. More than half of the water was behind her, but she still had some ways to go.


Years, since she had said yes;
Years, since she had taken her first steps;
Years, since she had she said goodbye;

To her family, her friends, and her neighbors,––years had gone by.


"A penny for your thoughts," the Guide said.

"My thoughts are many and various," the Woman replied.

"Would you like to talk about them?"

"They're nothing special. I was only thinking about years. It seems like only yesterday that I thought I would get through this quickly. But it hasn't happened that way. It's been years.   I seem to be moving, but there are times, when I don't seem to be moving at all. Do you know what I mean?"

"Yes, I understand what you mean."

"I think  I've crossed over the majority of this ocean, and I have over half of it behind me, but I'm not sure. Do you think I'll make it?"

"Yes, I think you will."

The Woman began to chuckle.

"Why are you laughing?" Asked the Guide.

"Because––"

"Because what?"

"Because I have been walking on this ocean for years. I would have never thought I could walk on an ocean, but I'm doing it."

"What finally convinced you that you could?"

"Could what?"

"Walk on the ocean."

"Those first steps I took."

"And what did you learn from those first steps?"

"That you never know until you step out there."

"Which means?"The Guide asked.

"There is no way around taking risks. Every day is a new beginning with new steps that run into months and years.  Do you agree with me?" The Woman asked.

"Yes, I do.  Shall we go?

"Yes, let's move on. How much longer do we have before we reach the other side?"

"Years, My Dear Friend, years. You still have some years before you," answered the Guide, and he smiled at the Woman who was no longer afraid to walk on the ocean.

Ciao,
Pat Garcia