|The Battleship, Grand Canyon|
I was in a comfort zone for 34 years while I was married to Jim. That kind of depth and time in a relationship certainly has you pretty comfortable. And living in the same house and town for 24 years was also very comfortable. We had our routine, our friends, our family and a schedule that fit and was very comfortable.
Jims' illness took me far beyond my comfort zone. Set me into the stratosphere of discomfort actually. Losing him so early whirled my little zone into a complete chaotic state. Like a once serene woodland after a microburst has hit; the rampage and intense energy of this wind storm can explode and topple trees into a jumbled mass of toothpicks. As I looked at my life in the after math of my storm, the landscape was completely changed and I realized there was no longer a familiar zone at all . It had been blown to smithereens.
|On the Battleship, Grand Canyon|
|Terri, Alice and me, bushwacking|
There was silence in the truck. Then Alice said, "it looks pretty dense right there." I added, "and steep!" Dave turned to all of us and said, "Well, we could go back a half mile and take that logging road up into the same area. It will be longer and, frankly, boring. We can always turn back if we aren't comfortable with this ascent." Silence in the truck again. I sat quiet as I didn't want to push anyone to do something they didn't want to do. The big difference between Dave and I. And then Terri said, "OK, let's give this a try, if we can always turn back!"
It was a challenging climb. There were moments when the steepness of the slope, the ice and sliding crust under foot defintely asked a lot of the three of us at times. At crucial moments it seemed Terri or Alice would turn to me and say something that would get me giggling ... and as I lost the grip I had on a tree or watch as my snowshoe lost it's grasp in the ice I'd get laughing harder. We all would get laughing and thus delighting in this moment. As we came out into the clearing on the ridge and those mountains blossomed in front of us with their white peaks standing in contrast to a robin eggs blue sky, Terri turned to Alice and me and said, "damn, he was right!"
|On the Colorado River|
I know now that all the times Dave has pushed me beyond my comfort zone that this has been my response ... damn, he's right ... this is where life begins.
Loving you all back,