When people lose a leg, they either choose to use a wheelchair or learn to walk again through rehabilitation; a process, requiring time combined with hard work, learning how to compensate for a loss. Losing a spouse is just such a loss, not physically, but mentally. Because we walked together for so long, I didn’t know how to walk on my own. I walk for a couple of reasons: to get somewhere or enjoy the outdoors; one a purpose, the other to find joy. Not walking means I have no purpose or joy, therefore I need to find at least one purpose and also know that I deserve joy, things that I must believe are obtainable, waiting for me to get up and start putting one foot in front of the other, rather than wasting away while time slowly brings them to me. Life is a gift, so in and of itself it’s a purpose and a joy. Love has purpose, so loving is a purpose and there is joy in being loved. There’s so many more awaiting discovery, so rather than letting atrophy set in, choose to find and take hold of both, learning to walk on my own.