At Least They're Committed

It was a little like how I perceive the passage from life to afterlife, it hurt some at first and it was a little scary, but once I got going, the pain went away and I felt looser and freer than I had in months, maybe years.

I can’t fall. Well, I mean, I can, I’m just now allowed to. So on Father’s Day, up at Uncle Dan’s cabin above Vega Lake on the Grand Mesa, I had to be careful stepping around the gravel going up the hill, and even more-so coming down.

Dad only needs to wear his oxygen when he’s in the mountains and he is real good about taking his time. At first I’d go ahead a couple hundred feet then circle back to him. My right ankle, the one I broke, ached and the groin muscles around my left hip tightened up. But the forest was more lush and green and alive than I think I’d ever seen it, and it was beckoning so I wasn’t about to let the mountain or myself down.

And pretty soon I realized that the pain was gone, the ache was gone and I felt lighter and had more energy than I can recall having in a long time. I darted up ahead and then back to Dad; Grizz kept pace somewhere in between. Dad pointed to the trail with his walking stick and I shot up to the end of the land, to the round, rusted poles where a fence had once swung, and back down. That’s when I saw him fumbling with his phone and I guessed he was working on a getting a photo of me and my old, blind, deaf buddy (by God, I actually like that dog now). I quickly snapped a photo of him, then stashed my phone. So yeah, these are the pics, only I’ve made them artsy because it reflects the mood.

Mom walked to the end of the drive when we first set out. I was several feet up the path by then, but I could hear her talking to Dad. “You walk in front of her on the way down, OK?” And he nodded and I smiled. It reminded me of a little more than two-thirds of my life ago when I was 16 and we were camping and I’d overdone it after my appendectomy and I’d passed out in the latrine and Mom had rushed and gotten Dad and he was like a deer as he hurdled over the downed trees to get to me and carry me back to the camper. It doesn’t matter that I’m 52 years old, I’m still his little girl and I love that.

It was my very happy father’s day.