When someone we love suddenly dies, we question what
we thought were the givens about life, and we begin to take risks that we wouldn't normally take. In the year
after Evelyn died, I often went into nature to deal with grief.
This trip I have come to Yosemite to cross over the boundary from city life and enter the wilderness.
On the Yosemite Falls Trail
going up the canyon wall, I encounter a scattering of snow at the 6000-foot
level. It gets deeper the higher I go, making the upward hike slippery and a
little dangerous. When I make the turn at the bend, a cold wind funneling down the
canyon pummels me, and I zip my coat as tightly as I can.
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Ever since my daughter died, I've been braver, been punching holes in my comfort zone. I thought that was because my daughter was so courageous, even gutsy, in the way she lived. But maybe, because she "crossed" the great divide, the idea of dying isn't as terrifying as it once was. Cheers, Mark.
ReplyDeleteWhen the worst happens, the fear of death goes away. And I think we do borrow courage from our loved ones, as well as find our own.
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