That is what it feels like. Literally and figuratively.
For four years, I lived my life at Mom's pace, in her world, whatever it happened to be that day. Shortening my stride to match hers, constantly scanning the ground for unevenness that might take her down. Hovering, almost fearful of what may happen next. Let's face it, with Alzheimer's you never knew what was going to happen next.
Walking down the driveway the other day, I realized that I was still walking at Mom's pace, shortening my stride, watching the ground...but she isn't there anymore. Granted, some of this may be because my driveway is like a level luge course, hard and icy and dangerous (yay for STABILicers). Everybody (if you're prudent) walks like an old woman around here nowadays.
When I'm in a store,(about the only place with dry, level ground) and when the ground isn't so dangerous in the coming months, I'll practice walking. Head up, striding with purpose, at my own pace. Moving and looking forward, wherever that may lead.