I’ve been whining a lot this summer. Lingering depression, lingering snowpack, lingering rain. Then, suddenly, the weather didn’t seem so important anymore.
News started ticking in about an explosion in Oslo. Live tweets from desperate teenagers trapped on an island with a gunman. 77 innocent people killed in my beautiful, tiny country.
Then, two days later, a heartbreaking phone call from home. JK’s dad had passed away. Peacefully so, but still much, much too soon.
We boarded the next plane to Norway to spend time with our family and say our goodbyes.
I’ve had this drained, empty, hollow feeling inside of me ever since that Friday, and I’m having a hard time coming to terms with everything that’s happened.
Fearing a relapse into can’t-get-out-of-bed depression, JK and I decided to get out this weekend to clear our heads.
I don’t believe in a god, but when I’m outside, surrounded by towering peaks, blooming meadows, romping marmots and crystal-clear lakes, I feel so close to whatever life force it is that keeps this world turning.
I don’t know if this force is in nature or in the ether or inside of all of us, but I do know that whenever I connect with it, the world finally starts making sense again.
We hiked, we swam, we breathed, we talked, we were quiet together. We’re both saddened by the fact that JK’s dad never got to visit us in Washington. I could picture him sitting right there with us on Noble Knob, painting the beautiful scene in front of us.
After sunset we lit candles under the full moon. Suddenly we saw a shooting star, impossibly clear, right above Mount Rainier. Maybe he was there with us after all.
Big thanks to our friend who volunteered to take Wellie on such short notice, and to all the others that reached out to us over the last couple of weeks. It helps to know that we have friends like you.