The struggle is real

As the Rockies came into view on my drive out to see the kids today, I was left struggling for air as memories assaulted me. I have driven to and through these mountains many times, they have always been my quiet spot. A place to think and clear my mind, like the ocean

 

The Rocky Mountains were a favorite place to go camping for the kids and I.  As young children Kayla, Mathew and I would join their cousins out west. The van would be packed tight with the tent, stove, bikes and fishing poles. Down a dusty dirt road by a little stream we would set up home for a few days.  The kids would anxiously cast out into the stream and watch for a fish to take their bait. Quads, dirt bikes and dinner cooked over a fire, all great memories. 

As I crossed over a river on my drive, and I was reminded how much Kayla loved her summer camp trips down the North Saskatchewan river, white water canoeing.  She loved it so much she went two summers in a row!  I recall picking a grungy young teen girl up at Camp Kasota, she was grinning from ear to ear.  The stories, the hikes, and the fun of a group of young girls!  Oh how I miss her. 

 

Today I was reminded of a young man who drove to his favorite mountain spot and took his own life, gone much too soon. I think often of his kids, wonder how they are.  Over the years I have wondered many times if there was anything I could have done for him, did I miss a clue?  As with the death of my daughter, his death was so unexpected and so sad. 

Trying to change the mood, and regain my composure, I was reminded of the early morning ski trips with my boys and their friends. Big guys all snoring in the back, smelly gear on the way home, and of course the food!  Driving past Lake Louise and Sunshine I smiled. 

 

And the day was saved, with only a few tears shed.   

Night everyone.