Rabbit hole from a FB memory from Bremen Germany
Under the Bridge Walkway: A Reflection on Hope and Burden
One of my favorite photographs I’ve ever taken is of the under-the-bridge walkway in Bremen, Germany. On that cold day by the river, Lucas (no 5 y/o) was strapped to my back, and Liz – partner and spouse in crime)—still recovering from surgery—wandered the streets with me.
The person who sheltered under that bridge wasn’t there – in this moment, even that absence itself carried and added meaning. As I stood there, memories surfaced. Liz’s burdens from years ago—her fall while protecting Dennis down the stairs—had always seemed impossible to overcome. Yet, in that moment, I realized the impossible had shifted into I’m possible, certainly for her! Healing was no longer just a distant hope; it was becoming reality.
Meanwhile, in another part of the world – our home – our other kids were safe and loved in the care of their grandparents. Still, I couldn’t shake the thought that they might be carrying their own invisible weight—the emptiness of missing their mom, balanced by the fragile light of hope that she would get better.
That image under the bridge became more than a photograph. It reflected a vivid truth – felt more so today than ever: I often feel as though I am grieving the living. Too many people, apathetically and too often – willfully, surrender their agency to systems that ignore their worth and their humanity and the humanity of others. Life feels heavier now than at any other point in my adulthood. The latchkey kid approach I thought we had matured beyond seems vibrantly alive and well.
As a Gen Xer, I’ve absorbed and adapted to this carousel of comfort. Others beg me to ride, often beyond my control and stuck with the camaraderies of the past. It’s frustrating— because they will not awake and see the diminished and eroded offering of the values I was taught in adolescence. I did not satiate nor want that offering then and it has returned as history often does – perhaps with a different shade of lipstick on the Pig! Yet, this image reminds me of hope and a vision of what lies beyond the despair. It beckons and reminds me how recalibration, even while sitting through and enduring darkness, can bring light and reconstructive healing.
I will never forget those who choose to sit with me—whether virtually or in person—not to fix me, but to abide with me. Their presence helps me endure the disruptive storm and its noise and chaos until clarity emerges. Uncertainty is the terrain I often sojourn through, but companionship and connection makes it survivable. Their empathy often serves as a spark to ignite my fading candle.
This particular capture struck me like a fairytale—past and future colliding to shape my present then and even now today upon a brief rear view mirror moment. It reminds me that I am alive, that gratitude is possible, that empathy often births courtage, and that Liz’s leap of faith was, and still is, a miracle. We lived it, and we continue to live its fruits today.
🇩🇪 🇩🇪 🇩🇪 Cheers to memories of the Schnoor, Bremen, Germany. 🇩🇪 🇩🇪 🇩🇪
