Remembering my Dad

It's been a year since my Dad died and I miss him terribly. I'm sitting in my cabin in McCall, looking out over Payette Lake as a storm blows in.  The power flickers on and off, the whitecaps are visible in the dimming light, and the trees are shuddering.  I hear the sound of branches falling on my metal roof, and slow rain drops, then faster ones, then hail.  My Dad would love this weather, this place, this life I'm so lucky to have.  I can easily picture him here, where he would name every tree within sight and go on evening walks in the hills.  He loved to be outside, to share an adventure with those he loved.  And his life was an adventure.  He traveled the world by boat, bus, and bike, met and married a newspaper woman, started a family, and kept on adventuring.  As I have grown, I have realized more each day how exceptional my Dad was.  He loved my Mom in a way I have rarely seen, their 33 years of happy marriage speaks to their deep love for each other.

The storm has let up (though the power is still out), and I know there are good times ahead.  I began riding my bicycle after my Dad died, as a way to meditate on my loss, to let my mind wander slowly, to have time in my long days to simply remember.  Cycling became my medicine, each ride brought me closer to feeling strong again.  As I ride across the country, I know I'll think often of my Dad, and I know I'll heal more with each pedal stroke.

I am still looking out over Payette Lake, and the sun is shining through the clouds, almost unbelievably.  The hail has disappeared into tiny puddles.  Though it has been a dark year, the bright moments have come thanks to the many many friends and family members who have supported us through the hardest time of our lives.  So, thank you dear friends, your love has carried us.  

*I wrote this last night, but the power just returned...it looks like another beautiful McCall day.