Growing Through Grief

Recently I took up hiking.  Those of you who know me, know that in the past I have excersised but it usually last a couple of months and then I quit and become a couch potato for the next 2+ years until I'm sick of looking in the mirror of what I have become. 
This new venture began with a co-worker telling me about her experience hiking and just like me, she hated excersise however something about hiking gave her the energy and positive attitude she desired.  I thought "hec, if she can do it, so can I" and thus began my hiking journey. 
As I began my first hike I was reminded of the MISS Foundation's most recent activity with bereaved parents, "The Barefoot Walkabout" that took place at the end of October in Sedona, Arizona in which parents were encouraged to hike barefoot as a mindful and spiritual journey.  A fellow bereaved mom commented that she took the walk with the group on Saturday and enjoyed it so much that she decided to walk again on Sunday.  However on Sunday, something was different for her, she was walking alone.  She described both walks as being like grief - sometimes you have people "walking" with you in your moments of grief and those are the moments that make it a little easier but when you are "walking" alone you find it much more difficult and harder to do.
I have accomplished the entire 1 mile walk to the first scenic viewpoint twice.  It sounds like a very tiny accomplishment however I did this alone, physically.  I had 3 other ladies get me to go and as experienced hikers met me at the end point.  At first, I was disappointed that no one was walking next to me and now looking back, I find that they were the ones that encouraged me at the end to make sure I got there.  There is a light at the end of the tunnel, so to speak, in grief.  Grief is just like the 3 hikes I have taken.  The first walk was grueling and I couldn't complete it (I did make it 3/4 of a mile up); the second walk was difficult but just a little bit easier; the third walk was difficult for the first half a mile and then I felt accomplished and that I could not turn back and quit - I kept going and when I got to the top for the second time I felt a sigh of relief and that I made it.
Next week, November 24, will be 6 years since Kayla died.  I look back at where I was 6 years ago and where I am now.  Wow so much has happened.  I am grateful that I have such supportive parents, cousin, friends (real life and cyber world), and my son for guiding me through the journey.  You may not have walked next to me but you were at the end cheering me on, letting me know I could make it out of the darkness.  Thank you!