Like many parts of my life, my journey across the Brooklyn Bridge was not without its challenges. On this particular day, the day I had planned to walk across the bridge, it was raining and extremely cold. But since I was only going to be in New York for three days, I figured it was now or never. I try to visit New York at least twice a year. And everytime I take that trip I promise myself that I will walk across the Brooklyn Bridge. So how is it that seven years have passed and once again I was sitting in my hotel room, in Tribecca, blaming the weather as the reason why I would not walk to Brooklyn. However, this time as I stared out of my hotel room window, I could here my mother's voice saying, "Cheney, life doesn't always happen the way you plan. These setbacks should not stop you from accomplishing the things you want to accomplish. Now get an umbrella and get your butt across that bridge."
A few blocks from my hotel, was the entrance to the bridge. The night before I made my journey, I had attempted to cross the bridge. However, since it was dark and I couldn't see the path ahead of me, I decided it was not a good idea to make my journey when I wasn't sure what was ahead of me. Life sometimes happens in the same way. I've hesitated in making decisions because I didn't know what was waiting for me. It's said, "the journey of a million miles begins with one step." Well, in this case I don't know about a million miles, but I took that first step. About 10 minutes into the walk, the winds and ran started to pick up and I wanted to turn around. I figured this would be easier than continuing across because it was so cold. But I could hear my mother's voice and my determination wouldn't let me quit, so I continued on. Half way across, I got some extra shelter and was able to get a few photos of......the foggy sky. It was so foggy outside, I couldn't see anything for miles. So after catching my breath and arranging my umbrella and purse I continued on to Brooklyn.
Twenty-seven minutes later, cold and wet with soaked trouser socks, (and the hem of my trouser pants) I walked 2 blocks to a restaurant where I would stand at the counter and joke with the Italian guys behind the counter about why Chicago's pizza is better than the pizza in New York. Next, I would spend twenty-five minutes talking to a man, about 80 years old, who loved my hat because it reminded him of one he'd had for 50+ years. He reminded me of my grandfather and I guess he noticed something, as he looked at my teary eyes because he asked, "What are you thinking about?" "You remind me of my grandfather," I would tell him. "Well I'm sure he's thinking and loving you wherever he is," the eldery man said to me. I told him that my grandfather had been killed when I was five years old so just sitting and talking to him made me think about how I'd wish for moments like this with my grandfather. "Well he can still love you from heaven, can't he." Smiling, I sat thinking if I'd never taken that journey across the Brooklyn Bridge, I would've missing hearing my grandfather telling me he loves me. And even though I already knew that, it felt really good to hear it anyway.