Three Steps Ahead

     Until my recent knee surgery, throughout all of our 35 year marriage, Reed has walked three steps ahead of me. This is not so he can protect me from dangers on the trail, as in frontier days. When we were hiking on our honeymoon, I believed that by walking ahead of me, Reed thought I was well able to manage on my own. Eventually I realized he wasn't thinking of me at all. He was hiking alone, I just happened to be in the vicinity. This gait gap is not limited to hiking in the woods though, he walks the same distance ahead whether we are in our hometown, a sizeable city of questionable safety, or crushed in the crowds at Disney World. He walks at a pace that is comfortable for him, it is just a little too fast for me.
     Admittedly, I am not a fast walker. I am not a fast anything. All my life, regardless of how many people are dining at the table, I am usually the last one done eating. Back in the days of typewriters, it took two years of high school classes to get my speed up to 65 words per minute. Some girls in my shorthand class could type 120 w.p.m. That is talking speed. I don't know why they were bothering to take shorthand. I took it so I could take notes in class without falling hopelessly behind, because I was also a slow writer. Even at the time I was in school, shorthand was being phased out in favor of recorded transcription, but I use shorthand to this day to take notes in church and BSF. The only thing not slow about me is my wit and, unfortunately, my tongue. I can snap out a zinger response in the blink of a brain.
    Besides my natural tendency to be slow, since childhood I intentionally avoided walking quickly because my left kneecap had an inconvenient tendency to dislocate when my leg was fully extended. Even after surgery tethered the tendon, arthritis made walking quickly uncomfortable, especially downhill. So a couple months ago, I had the arthritis amputated and acquired a new knee. Since then, Reed has been walking faithfully at my side. It has not been a rapid recovery. Since my right knee had not fully recovered from arthroscopic surgery before I had Lefty replaced, neither knee has been happy. I did not realize until we got to our hotel in Boise, how much I had been relying on the natural hand holds of my home:  furniture, counters, doorways etc. to supplement the strength and coordination my legs lacked. Also, both knees developed the disturbing habit of trying to give way and, although this sensation was a good cardio workout, it made even the simplest walking stressful. So my steadfast husband steadied me by buying me a cane, which I hated--but used. With the cane one one side and Reed on the other, I could finally outpace a geriatric turtle.
    My long lost legs are, at last, starting to feel strong. They are moving from the liability to asset column of my walker ledger. Soon I will no longer need my cane for walking (although I might use it to beat Reed for making me buy it). Then my beloved permanent partner and temporary escort can go back to walking three steps ahead. . .but I will miss him.