I just realized after talking to one of my girlfriends that it’s father’s day.
I’ve had my nose to the grindstone so to speak that I almost forgot. This week is also the anniversary of the final mile in Boston, Indiana’s birthday, and 3 years since the death of my son, Murphy.
Crossing over the Columbia into Oregon yesterday was more than just a milestone. What Stover, the well intentioned and seemingly genuinely interested reporter left out of his article was this:
This walk is all about the crossing and not just borders.
It’s the cross I wear around my neck between the ashes of Malcolm and Murphy that doesn’t represent a religious symbol but a commitment.
The symbolic representation of a cross can be found in every culture as a partnership and a promise. And, at times, a lean-to when you need it.
It’s bridging the gap in understanding that cancer is a cross species epidemic. It affects all of us. Cancer. Touches. Everyone. isn’t just a tagline or some cutesy saying I came up with.
I was stopped recently and asked, ‘What type of cancer are you walking for?’. Isn’t it interesting that question? That this disease so subdivides us?
Dog cancer. Pet cancer. Canine cancer. Human cancer. Melanoma, lymphoma, breast cancer, liver cancer, prostate cancer….
The most important takeaway point from Stover’s interview was this – the microscope does NOT discriminate.
I didn’t really know what this second walk was really about until now. I had an inkling and an instinct. But now I know. And on this father’s day, I give thanks to my father for imparting to me a thirst for knowledge and understanding. And my mother who helped me cross that with faith and belief.
No matter how many bridges I cross I miss my sons. Malcolm and Murphy.
This Saturday, the 14th, join Hudson, Indiana, and Yer Big Dog at the Esther Short Park at 12 noon for our crossing into Portland, the second state on our historic cross country trek. There will be a meet and greet at the park and then we’ll walk across the I-5 bridge into Oregon. 
I’m guessin that’s Hudsy’s way of saying goodbye to Red or ordaining her to a higher office or something. 
That’s Confucia and Super Cooper we met while walking thru Bellingham WA. 
Polar opposites – even posing for photos in our tent. 
Waterfalls find their way down the westside of Chuckanut mountain.
Hudson and the mini-donkey farm.
Spring seems eternal here as the dogwood trees and rhododendrons continue to bloom in unabashed beauty. 
We’ve been granted safe passage thus far and that’s the thing to be grateful for. A few close calls and some rough and tough stretches but we’re making progress and as our dear friend Buddy pointed out yesterday, we’re at the midway point to Oregon. And we made some new friendships and revisited old ones, too. 
Only in my world would our first great technical challenge be a mountain named Chuckanut. 
It’s also home to Larrabee State Park, a destination point for anyone travelling in this area. We took a days rest there and the beach on Sammish Bay was so totally alluring. 
We were picked up Friday and transported to Seattle for the Petapalooza and it was great to spend time with Buddy and Ja-Cee, our PUPS up here in the area and their kiddos – Fonto & Sabrina. 