This is a rare occasion, and deserves special celebration - we usually celebrate by walking a little more slowly so he can keep up with us. We've developed such a synchronized pace from our many nights of practice that Dad has trouble adapting to it. We tease him a little about his lack of rhythm. He, in turn, teaches us a military change-step from his college days so we can get on his beat. We laugh and continue with our own pace as he realizes that he is outnumbered.
Tonight is a special night, though.
I suggest that we walk three times around the block instead of two. She suggests that we don't and say we did. We head outside, bracing ourselves against the cold and wishing we hadn't been in too much of a hurry to put on our jackets. Mom's shoes are squeaking. I realize, of course, that someday Mom herself will also be too old to walk beside me.