My Lover's Eyes, Taming Ghosts and Needs

'Cause there's no drink or drug I've tried
To rid the curse of these lover's eyes
And I feel numb, beneath your tongue
Your strength just makes me feel less strong

But do not ask the price I paid,
I must live with my quiet rage,
Tame the ghosts in my head,
That run wild and wish me dead.
Should you shake my ash to the wind
Lord, forget all of my sins
Or let me die where I lie
Neath the curse of my lover's eyes.

- Mumford and Sons

There is not a day that goes by that I am not haunted by my lover's eyes....literally. There is literally not one day that goes by that I do not see Tommy holding on to dear life, staring at me with that blank look, one pupil completely dilated, the other absent and lifeless already. These aren't my lover's eyes that I want to remember on a daily basis, yet they continue to be a part of daily life. I know this is merely the image that my mind continues to go back to because it was the moment when I realized that he wasn't going to make it...that he was fucked in the worst possible way. Yes....this is a classic sign of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder and we can talk about that at a later date. As you all know, I have been through something beyond horrific and tragic, to walk away from that event without a touch of PTSD would be rare. 

I would prefer if the daily image of Tommy was of him strong and full of life but those are just hopes and dreams at this point. I do reminisce quite often of our life together; yet those eyes return. 

I often think of Tommy looking down upon me and wonder what he would say regarding my journey since his death. Would he support my decisions? What would he tell me? How would he guide me? Again, just hopes. Unfortunately, I cannot rely on the wisdom of my lover. We can all guess what he would do in this situation; however, he would be the only one to actually know. Speaking of decisions, every decision I have made since his death has been critiqued, questioned or disagreed with by at least one person or another. I understand that sometimes these questions or what not are coming from a place of love, from those that truly want to see my path a little smoother. However, there are the others that for some reason or another, cannot accept my decisions and for that, I am honestly sorry. 

I am sorry if my path does not align with the needs of others. I am sorry that we have all been thrust in to this situation. I am sorry if I made a "wrong" decision. I am sorry if I have done anything to the one's I love to hurt them in any way. I am doing the best I can and I just wish others could see that and understand that. 

I do not need to be pushed to give away ashes. I do not need to be badgered for Tommy's possessions. I do not need to be critiqued on how I am living my life after admittance into the worst club on earth - the widow's club. I do not need to answer to anyone in regards to how I am spending money. I do not and will not be pushed. If this upsets anyone, I am sorry....I refuse to let anyone else dictate my process. If that makes me a horrible person, then I will own it but I think this means that I am grieving and that's okay.

What I do need is the love and support of family and friends. Family and friends that used to be around Tommy and I. I need a non-judgmental support system. A group of loved ones that has my back, whether it is to fix a hose or to go to a concert with me in memory of Tommy. I need understanding. I need distractions. I also need those around me to help me get done what needs to get done. I am walking in uncharted territory and from my experience of the past 4 months....this is what I need. 

I have ghosts and demons in my head that I have tried taming in every fashion. Let me tell you this....they are tenacious! The only time when I begin to actually believe that I have found some relief is when I am in the mountains for it is there that you must stay in the present in order to be safe and focused. Not many people will understand that and that is okay. Only a handful of people that read this will truly know the healing powers of the mountains and of nature. It is because of these ghosts in my head that I run away to the mountains so frequently. I'm looking for peace....even if it is just for the day or a moment. I am looking for ways to continue to move forward. I am looking for comfort, for life, for me. I am looking for me. 

Tommy and I and his beautiful spirit and eyes full of life and excitement lead a truly beautiful and adventurous life together. Unfortunately we both paid a pretty heavy price for the lifestyle we lived. Tommy paid with his life. I paid with the aftermath and am still paying every day I wake up. 

Well, love was kind for a time
Now just aches and it makes me blind

- Mumford and Sons

P.S. I never want to forget your eyes, lover. I just wish the ghosts in my head were full of your spirited ways and not when you were slipping away from me. If that is the only way I won't forget you then I welcome these ghosts to take permanent residence in my head. I love you forever, Tommy. I hope that I am doing everything right, not for my sake but for yours. You are such a big aspect of my life and always will be. Good night, my love!

What is Love?

 

 

I received an email from a friend the other day. A beautiful email, inquiring about love, loss, pain, etc. Here is the email I received and my response follows. It got my wheels turning in my head. Tears were cried. Memories brought up. Heaviness in my chest. Despite all these emotions, I am glad I received this thought provoking email and even more glad I found the strength to actually formulate a response...

 

I spend a lot of time thinking and one of the things I often think of is love. I want to learn what love is for me and what it is for others. 

If you could do it all over again would you? I can tell how painful the loss of Tommy was for you. I am trying to figure out if you love someone so much that the pain is so unbearable and the absence of that person impossible to deal with to the point of you wishing you never met him/her. Not only the pain that you and your daughter (I take it that's your daughter) experience now, but taking into the consideration the pain to come. 

Or is it worth the love that remains? Is the pain justified? The memories and the thoughts that still warm your heart even though he is gone. 

I am trying to understand that if someone does wish they had never met that someone special that is no longer here, do they love less? Did they love at all? Is it a different love, does love fit some kind of recognizable mould? Love and loss go hand in hand with one another due to our fragile and limited existence. 

Does a loved one only live on in our hearts, or do we experience them beyond this world? If they are out there somewhere Is our love strong enough to keep us connected?

 

My response:

 

I know a lot of people probably think they are with their soul mate and that their marriage or relationship is amazing and the best and I have no intention of taking that away from them. However, I truly believe Tommy was more than my soul mate. We were beyond happy, a perfect fit. He loved me for who I was and I loved him for who he was. We grew together as a team. We supported one another, pushed one another, inspired one another. Loving him was easy. Did we have arguments? Of course! Who can live with someone and not have little "fights" here and there. But our love for one another and for life was beyond infectious. We giggled like children, chased each other around the house, practiced our UFC moves on one another (he never let me win!), ecstatically planned our next adventures, and hated time a part from one another. He made me believe in love again...I had given up right before meeting him.

Would I do it all again? Absolutely! In a heart beat! I wouldn't trade anything for the days, months and years we spent together. Despite how immensely painful life is at the moment, I would never go back and change our relationship. Obviously, I would love to change what happened on that weekend but nobody has that power so I must continue to move forward as gracefully as I can. And the pain...oh the pain. I wish I didn't have to feel this pain, this struggle, this feeling of emptiness but I carry it around with me. I try to find strength in this pain. I try to smile through the pain. I tell myself that it only hurts this horrendously because our love was so deep, passionate and pure. I am the unluckiest lucky person around. There are billions of people that go through life without ever experiencing a love like what Tommy and I had. I would never want all of our sweet, sweet memories to not exist. As of now, our memories are beyond painful and come at me like brutal attacks on my heart and soul, debilitating me to a pile of tears. I am sure one day, they will warm my heart and soul like the flames of campfire on a summer night.

They say, "It is better to have loved and lost than to never loved at all." I am torn with this because it almost feels like a horribly mean joke that life has played on me. It honestly feels like the last 4 years of my life has been some sick and twisted joke...like my life was at the hands of a writer that just wrote this beautiful relationship between Tommy and I and then last minute changed their minds and erased/deleted our chapter. I don't know if that makes sense or if I am just rambling. Ultimately, I think they way we loved each other has changed me forever and has made me an incredibly better person. However, if I would have never known his love, I do believe I could have still found happiness somewhere. Would it have been as magnetic? I highly doubt it but then again, I wouldn't know what I was missing. I feel honored that I had the opportunity to love Tommy and be loved by Tommy but I feel an immense amount of resentment and anger at how things have panned out. I wonder if we never met one another if he would still be alive or if this was just his unfortunate path in life. I would give up knowing and loving him if it meant he would still be here for his family and for his daughter.  

As for how loving and losing someone changes how one can love again....I cannot answer that at this point in time. I have a hard time believing that I can ever be loved or love like that again; however, I know others that have lost their husbands and some are dating, some are in love and some are even married. They tell me it's definitely not the same but they are genuinely happy even though they still carry the loss and pain of losing their husbands with them. Nothing will ever be the same...I guess once you lose someone you loved so fiercely, you will never be the same again. The mountains seem different. I seem different. The house seems different. All of these things and more are completely different now and I have a feeling they will never be the same. Just need to learn what the new "normal" is and work on acceptance.

Love after death....I think it is more than possible to continue to love someone after they have passed. I know I am still early on in my journey but I know Tommy will always be in my heart and he will always have a part of mine. I feel his presence, I have woken up to feeling his touch, I try to think what he would do in situations, I try to live the life we had imagined together, and I plan to continue doing so. I would hope that one day Tommy and I could be reunited and if and when that day comes, I doubt I will have access to a computer to let you know! All we can do is hope and love and live for fun and for free!

 

Much love,

Alison Fountain

 

 

 

P.S. I would never give up a second of our time together, Tommy. I am so sorry that you are not here to experience life and the world and the wonders of the universe. I miss you so deeply. I am so sorry. I tried everything I could to save you, my beautiful husband. I love you, Tommy Fountain. I love you forever and for always. XOXO

I Walk This Lonely Road

"My shadow's the only one that walks beside me
My shallow heart's the only thing that's beating
Sometimes I wish someone out there will find me
'Til then I walk alone...I walk this empty street
On the Boulevard of Broken Dreams" - Green Day

 

I would like to share the following journal entry with you. It is a journal entry I wrote while on a trip, away from technology. I am opting to share it now because even though I wrote it down, it is still giving me anxiety and I have learned that blogging my journal entries actually decreases that anxiety in a weird way...so here goes it.

February 29th, 2016

Today is the day that I should be returning to civilization, after completing a five day guided trip in the Sierras. This has been an emotional journey for me. Returning to the Sierras where Tommy and I played and fell madly in love has been far from easy. Ideally, this trip would have brought me some peace and reassurance for my future climbing endeavors. However, I feel like it has done the opposite.

 

As soon as I approached the Eastern side of the Sierras, where desert gracefully meets up with a wall of granite, the memories flooded in as my eyes welled up with tears. Memories as fond as our first kiss, when we summited the wrong mountain. And memories of how frustrating and demoralizing some of our trips were due to conditions. Sometimes, no...most times, we would be the only ones out there - breaking trail in heavy snow, trying to keep warm on the coldest of nights. One thing we did learn quickly is that it is always beneficial to pack the snow shoes, even if you don't think you will need them. In the Sierras in winter, you will need them and when you need them and do not have them, certain unpleasant words may escape your mouth. There are so many memories that Tommy and I have shared in the Sierras that I could easily write a book containing just those, so I will save you for now.

 

Back to this trip. The first day was solely ice climbing...something that both Tommy and I had enjoyed and started really getting into before we moved to Oregon. I was a little apprehensive to meet the group. If you know me, I am not a big fan of groups or of meeting new people and instantly being forced with them for five days in the mountains. But...here I was! I hid my fears, my insecurities, my sadness, my vulnerabilities and walked confidently toward our meeting place. There were five other plus the guide. After trying to eat some breakfast with the group, we started our trek to where we would climb ice. Lee Vining Canyon is well known amongst mountaineers for it has some of the best ice climbing on the West Coast. A short hike into the canyon put us at the feet/base of magnificent walls of ice...ice that I was going to climb.

The climbing was fun and challenging. It broke my heart that Tommy, my love, wasn't here to appreciate it's beauty and challenge himself on the ice. For the time being, I buried that too and forced a smile. Toward the end of the day, I could not avoid the pain, the hurt, the grief any longer. My heart was with Tommy and not in the present. I was done. I sat out the last climb and anxiously awaited our departure. I isolated myself from the group as others were going to grab dinner together, I headed down the road to my hotel room and grabbed dinner alone.

 

Back in the room, I nervously packed for the next four days - the four days and three nights we would spend climbing Matterhorn Peak. Upon awakening the next day, I felt in better spirits and made the drive to where we soul meet our backcountry guides. Still feeling okay, we carpooled to the trailhead and started the five mile snowy slog up to base camp. Mentally and physically, I still felt okay - even through the pain of my heavy pack and the hardships of elevation, I felt okay. We set up camp and awaited dinner.

 

Once darkness fell upon me and the wind picked up, whipping through camp with a vengeance, I was instantly transported back to that cold night I spend in the crevasse with my dead husband by my side. I tried to shake it. I tried to focus on the reality. Nothing worked. I silently cried. I crawled in the tent with my tent partner, turned away from him and sobbed as silently and as privately as possible.

This flashback destroyed me.

It was the beginning of a downward spiral. What was I doing here? Maybe I do just need to leave the mountains alone. No, I love the mountains....it is in the mountains where I find zen and inner strength that cannot be found anywhere else. If I can't make it one night in the mountains, how am I going to climb Jefferson? Will it be different with a friendly face with me? Or will I get sucked back into that frigid crevasse? All of these questions and all of this internal dialogue continued on...all while still attempting to bring myself back to the present.

I finally caved in and sought out the guides. I told them what was going on and one of them set up a plan to escort me back to town. No hard feelings. No sense of judgment. I felt like they understood.

 

"Don't stray from the mountains - you need them and they need you." - Something that stuck out to me during our descent. This gave me the reassurance that I needed. I have always felt like the mountains are a part of me, so why would I stray away from them when I need them most?

 

Despite not making the summit, I am not chalking this trip as a failure. I learned a lot just by attempting this trip.
1) I am still not a fan of groups - maybe look into a private guided trip next time
2) I am not as strong as I would like to think I am - I was brutally and humbly destroyed because of a vicious memory
3) I will not leave the mountains alone for they are my soul
4) I may need to rethink how I enjoy and spend time in the mountains, for it will never truly be the same - my mountaineering my have to take a seat in the back for awhile until I can heal on a deeper level
5) There is the whole thing of needing a partner for the mountains too - I know, it may seem trivial, but it is beyond important to be out there with someone you trust with your life and someone that you don't have to prove anything to. Someone you can show vulnerability to. Someone truly special. I was beyond lucky to have had that in Tommy plus a fiercely passionate love.

 

Those are just some of the big things I have learned so far. Oh, I have also become more than okay with ugly crying on the trail. I have heard that the forest, the trees, the earth, the rocks are all strong enough to handle our stressors and problems...so that's what I did this morning. I ugly cried for two miles while snowshoeing. I didn't care if anyone saw me or heard me, I just let it out for the trees to take. Luckily, I saw not a soul on the trail...I am sure that helped with the "letting it all out" approach I took.

 

I will always return to the mountains. In good and bad they have always had my back. I am sure there will be many more tears, screams, laughs, and even smiles in the time to come - all things that I will share with my friends, the mountains.

P.S. You will be with me on every summit, my love!

Home

As I pack my bags, this word, "home" keeps running through my thoughts. In a sense, I feel like by returning to the Sierra's, I am coming home. In other ways, I feel as if I am leaving our home, the home that Tommy and I made together. Then there is the home I will be returning to after I complete this trip - the same physical space that I left but one that I must now truly be alone in. I have been saved from this painful part of this journey until now - until my beautiful friend of 17 years must return to her home.

My husband, Tommy, and I have made each of our homes truly reflect the people that we are. Each has had wonderful raised garden beds, a place for the dogs, and a place for us to enjoy family time. This was the first time that we were able to really shape and mold our backyard - we worked with the builders to terrace the yard in a specific manner to allow each area to have it's own space. A chicken coop stands on the third tier - a chicken coop that Tommy built with his own two hands, complete with a shingle roof, chicken wire windows, and a weather vane on top. The chickens have been gone for a few months. I gave them away for I could not take care of them amongst my grief. The raised garden beds are still producing carrots, kale, garlic, fennel and beets to name a few - I was able to successfully overwinter them all! The dog area now has a new dog house that Tommy's brother and friend built for me recently - adorned with a replica of one of Tommy's tattoos. Our family time area has not been used since the loss of Tommy. The fire pit remains covered with a black tarp. The pillows for the seating, securely stored in the garage. The hammock and slack line taken down for the winter. Inside our home, lay constant reminders around each corner, hiding in the nooks and crannies of the life we had together and the life we were supposed to still have together. Concert tickets that I got for him for his birthday still remain on his desk - we never made it. A large picture mosaic hangs at the top of the stairs of our trip to Tanzania where he proposed. A book lay open on his desk - the book is "Mountaineering: Freedom of the Hills" and the page that has been staring me in the face is one on two person crevasse rescue. In our bedroom, a handmade banner hangs across the window that faces our bed - the banner is from our wedding and reads "Tommy <3 Bliss Sept 7, 2013 <3 Alison." On my phone a calendar reminder pops up - this weekend we had plans to attend an Avalanche 2 course at Mt. Baker. A closet full of clothes, a bar of soap in the shower, his toothbrush by the sink...all constant reminders of our life together - what it was and what it was supposed to be.

Am I ready to leave this house full of bittersweet reminders?

I am packing for a trip to the Sierra's to climb Matterhorn Peak in winter conditions. In order to pack for this, I must go through our climbing gear. Each piece of climbing equipment from carabiners to backpacks to helmets down to even socks, has a deep tie to Tommy. Not only was it with Tommy that we both grew as mountain climbers but it was in the Sierra's where our love for each other grew. We took many trips to the Sierra's while dating and as a married couple. It was in the Sierra's where we shared our first kiss. It was in the Sierra's where we made a Thanksgiving tradition. It was in the Sierra's where we grew as a couple and as a team. It was in the Sierra's where we discovered our ambitions. The Sierra's were ours. It was the Sierra's that I missed most after moving to Oregon. As I pack our gear to return to these mountains that we loved, my heart breaks once again. I am returning to our Sierra's as a widow, with Tommy only in my heart. I am taking a trip that I know he would've loved. I can only imagine what his energy would be like while packing for this trip - the whole house would be buzzing with excitement. Meanwhile, back in reality I am not quite sure what there is more of in my bag: tears or gear?

Am I ready to return home to the Sierras without my lover by my side?

Once I leave our home tomorrow, bags packed, dogs in the back of the car, my friend by my side, it will not be the same when I return. When I return, I will have to face daily live by myself. I have had a support person with me since I got off of the mountain and I am beyond thankful to everyone that has spent time with me in order to make sure that I am not alone. I have faced only a handful of things by myself since Tommy's death. I have managed small errand trips. One day trip to the mountains. I cannot imagine not having someone to help get me through the days. Until my return home, I have had someone that I can talk to when things aren't going great. Someone to hug me when one is in order. Somebody to physically fill the space next to me. I suppose it is my time.

Am I ready to return home alone?

I suppose it is time to find out what I am made of.

P.S. Lover, though you won't be with me physically, you will be with me still for you are in my heart and soul. You are with me everyday, even more so in the mountains. Cheers to an amazing trip! I love you so incredibly much.

Finding Strength

I awoke from my sleep the other night. This has become a new normal for me. I have not had a good night's sleep since the night before we left our tent for our summit attempt on Mt. Jefferson. I have tried a myriad of remedies ranging from the natural to prescriptions. Even on my best night, I wake up several times throughout the night. I suppose it just comes along with the territory for now. However, something was different about this wake up call. I felt this strange feeling of inspiration and motivation come over me.

We were having an unusual spell of gorgeous, sunny days for the Pacific Northwest. I grabbed my laptop and my fingers instantly typed in the Google search bar the following words: "Climbing Mt. St Helens in Winter." I read up on the route, which is called Worm Flows and then proceeded to complete my in depth weather check. Everything was good to go. It was 1 am. I knew I needed a few more hours of rest before making the two and a half hour drive and twelve mile climb. I set the laptop down and set my alarm for 5 am.

Strangely, my body did not fight sleep as much as it usually does after one of my many wake up spells. Next thing I knew, my alarm was waking me up to a gentle yet energetic tune. Time to pack my backpack and let my friend know what I was up to. In attempts on not waking her up this early in the morning, I had planned to leave her a note with the details. I left my room and was headed downstairs when I saw the soft, yellow glow seeping out from underneath her door. I tiptoed to her door and softly whispered, "human?" She responded! I told her my plans and she stated that I was buzzing with energy. She accompanied me downstairs while I packed the rest of my things.

This will be my first truly solo hike/climb since I decided to leave the dogs at home due to the long day that this climb would entail. I made sure I packed headphones in the event that my empty mind went haywire. I had audio books downloaded to keep my mind occupied and even brought a back up cell phone for music. I was just about ready to start my long, quiet drive to the trailhead when she asked, "Are you bringing Tommy?" I stopped in my tracks and was silent for quite awhile. What was I afraid of? Why wouldn't I take him? He had never been to the summit of Mt St Helens for he was waiting for winter when it was more of challenge. "Yes...I'm going to take him!" I responded with both excitement and hesitation in my voice.

We both ran back upstairs and found the perfect pouch. It was small enough to take a small amount of Tommy's ashes with me. Small enough to fit in my pocket. Now that I had the pouch I was going to take him in, it was time to open the perfectly adorned scattering tube to access his remains. The pain was real. The struggle was intense. I pushed through. I would have done anything to go on this climb with my lover. I opened the lid and delicately placed one spoonful of what remains of my husband into the pouch. I sealed the pouch and placed it in my left hand pocket along with the rock that is inscribed " I love us." It was a rock that we would give back and forth to each other on different summits - an idea we initially got from the penguins that search the beaches for the perfect pebble to give to their mates. I realigned the image on his scattering tube so it was perfect and placed his wedding band back on top  and headed out for our climb together.

Like I have mentioned previously, I am not afraid of hiking alone. I have spent countless days hiking and scrambling to summits in the sierras while solo. However, there is a piece of me that is afraid of what my mind might bring up while out in the mountains these days. With no distractions of daily life, what will I think of? Will I break down in tears and not be able to carry on? Will I have flashbacks? The scariest thing for me regarding my mental game is the unknown. I know I have to be alone at some point but I have definitely been postponing it out of the fear. Arriving at the trailhead I told myself that it was time to face the truth. Time to face the pain. Time to face the fear. It was time.

From the trailhead, I instantly needed snowshoes for traction. I focused on my breathing and the wandering trail through the forest. I had only gotten a tiny glimpse of the mountain during the drive in and she was now in hiding. Once out of the tree line, the route was up for discussion. I saw snowshoe tracks going up a ridgeline, heading toward the summit. I saw other tracks wrapping around a small hill where I saw a sign that read "Ski Trail Loop." I waivered on which way to go. This was not in the research that I had read. That was when I heard Tommy's voice, "If all else fails, just go up." So, that's what I did. I knew my goal was the summit, so I headed straight for it and went up the ridgeline. That ridgeline met up with another steeper ridge that needed to be gained at which point I realized that this must not be the "route." There wasn't that many footprints and from what I understand, this is a fairly popular mountain. That is when I scanned my surroundings.

To the left, three of four small ridges over, I could see the stamped out path to the summit. I debated whether or not to retreat and get on the path or continue up the path less traveled. It would have been and exhaustive measure just to meet up with the normal path. I decided to stay on the path less traveled. I call this pulling a "Tommy." Throughout all of our adventures I can recall several occasions where we took the more "creative" route - somehow leaving a nicely groomed trail for one covered with downed trees and boulders and scree (my favorite!). As I fought my way up this icy ridge, grabbing onto trees for added oomph, I giggled to myself. Of course this is how our climb would go, he wouldn't have it any other way.

For those that don't know me, I am typically a trail kind of girl. I prefer a nicely groomed trail over bushwhacking through the forest. I prefer solid footing over loose rock or boulders that move underneath my feet. I prefer knowing exactly where I am going as opposed to guessing my route. I prefer a nice timid day to hike as opposed to too hot or too cold. I can still do all of the other situations, I just may or not be a little more vocal about my dislikes. On several of our climbs, I would reach a point where I would have a mini mental break down about how much the footing sucked or how I didn't like hopping over trees and getting whipped with branches. Today was different though.

I was getting hit with branches as I forcefully pulled myself up the icy slope. I was scrambling on volcanic boulders with my snowshoes still on, pulling and testing holds before I used them for the rock is very crumbly. The slope on the ridgeline that would eventually take me to the summit became steeper. My snowshoes were becoming less effective in combating the steep slope and the snow was becoming softer due to the gorgeous sun. I switched to crampons to aide in my climb. From time to time (more times than I am normally okay with), I would take a step and my foot would sink through the snow until I was waist deep. I would dig deep and struggle my out of the post hole and carry on. I fought and fought this mountain, this less traveled route. I fought hard. I dug deep. I continued.

Normally, I would have lost my composure at the second or third time I lost my footing. However, just like when I awoke at 1 am, something was different this time. It very well could have been that I had a mission to get Tommy to the top. Or it could have been that Tommy was providing me with some of his strength and level headedness. Whatever it was, it was amazing. Long story short, I failed to reach the summit. I decided to turn around when it was nearing 4 pm and I still had about 1000 vertical feet to climb. I was prepared to hike out in the dark but ideally I don't like to still be pushing for the summit when it comes to dusk. At the point when I realized I couldn't make it, I turned around and attempted to soak in the views. From where I was on the mountain side, I could see three other glorious cascade mountains - Mt Adams, Mt Hood, and always looming in the distance, Mt. Jefferson.

It was at this point that my knees slowly buckled and I sank until the snowy slope of the mountain caught me. I wasn't in danger of falling. It was more of a sinking to my knees move, I was giving in. Tears rolled down my face and I told Tommy that I couldn't make it, that "I tried so hard, baby...I just couldn't do it." I sat there on the mountain side and just cried. The tears weren't there for my failure. They were there because of my pain, because of losing my lover, because Tommy wasn't here to see this beauty and experience this mountain. I cried and I cried and I cried. I told him how much I miss him and how much I love him and how sorry I was for not getting him up there to see the other side. The pain was real. The struggle was real. The hurt was so real. I couldn't escape it this time by hopping on my computer or calling my mom or turning on a movie. It was just me, the mountain and my pain.

Again, I dug deep, turned my pain into strength and carried on down the mountain. My phone that I was using for music died and I was left with my thoughts and my thoughts only for the descent. I made it. I talked to Tommy at times as if he were there. Other times I was just silent and my mind was still. I reveled in the things that I had accomplished during the ascent. I was proud of myself. I found strength in the pain. I realized that I now have a strength that is untouchable - a strength that may have always been in me but one that I never knew was there. Pain doesn't always have to break us down, it can build character, and show us what we really want. Pain is just another obstacle. Pain can be beautiful and strong and graceful. I embrace the pain and all that it brings me.

P.S. I am stronger because of you, Tommy. I love you with a passion and we will be on many summits together, my dear. I had a dream the other night and you were in it. I asked you, "what do we do now?" and you said "My love, we could talk, we could lay, we could just be." And then you wrapped your arms around me in a lovers embrace. I could feel it. My skin around my back and shoulders were tingling with the sensation of your arms wrapped around me. I could feel it, baby. I would give anything to feel that again. I love you so fiercely, lover.

A Graceful Fight

I have said that I want to flow through this journey in a graceful fashion. I knew it would not always be easy. However, at times during it feels almost impossible. It seems as if whenever I make progress in one area, I slide back two in another. Right now, my obstacles include others. By no means do I intend to offend anyone for I love each and every one of you that have been with me through this journey. However, my heart is pained at times and other times I do not have the words to say. I wish I could respond perfectly to every situation. I wish I had all the answers.

I know that a lot of people are grieving the loss of a great man. We all grieve differently. Some have withdrawn from me. Maybe they don’t know what to say. Maybe seeing me is a constant reminder of what is not. Maybe I have nothing to offer them except a reminder of Tommy. Maybe they are grieving on their own. Maybe it has nothing to do with me. It is so hard at times to accept that some people may no longer be in my life because of Tommy’s death. I can only open myself up so many times before I begin to focus on why they haven’t responded or called, etc. This worry becomes turmoil, derailing me from a gracious journey. I must accept that good intentions are out there, that they know I am here for them when the time is right. I must accept that some relationships will never be the same but they can still be present and grow in a new light. I must accept that some relationships will be lost. Accept the loss, learn from it and hopefully grow from it. In potentially losing these relationships, I never want to place blame on anyone. I cannot blame myself for this loss. I cannot blame the other for this loss. It is just the nature of the beast.

Some grieve by protecting and doing. I know these individuals have beyond good intentions and have helped me in so many ways already, many ways that they may never know. Some are overprotective and in this place of good from their heart, they may overstep boundaries. With this being done out of the kindness of their heart, it is easy to forgive them and understand where they are coming from. Everyone just wants to help. I get that. However, it comes a time when I need to stand on my own two feet and all I need is love and support. I am at that place in my journey where I need to be surrounded by love and grace. Gone is the time of making checklists for me. Gone is the time of making sure I showered. Gone is the time of ensuring I ate. Gone is the time. I now need love and grace like no other. They say to surround yourself with people that inspire and motivate you, for you are more likely to become like them. My path to grace requires many graceful and lovely individuals to walk with me. I can accept that not all are ready for exuding love and grace and happiness. The grief process takes us down a long, dark road through anger and denial. My hopes are that my path can pass that exit and keep on.

I know that those that knew Tommy are all grieving. I am not necessarily special by any means. We must continue to grieve and continue to honor him in the best way that we can. I was recently told that, “Tommy wouldn’t act this way,” to which I responded, “well, maybe Tommy was a better person than I,” to which I was told, “Tommy was a better person.” Am I mad at this statement? No. Tommy definitely was the master of dealing with people. I feel like I have witnessed him delicately dance around many confrontations with friends, family and businessmen alike. Tommy had a way. He was a problem fixer by nature. Fixing problems in a way that made every party involved happy. That is definitely a gift that I do not posses but lessons can be learned. Does this make him a better person than I? No. Who is to say someone is better or not in the first place? We don’t need to be judging one another and comparing ourselves to others. We should be focusing on becoming the best versions of ourselves. I focus everyday on becoming better and stronger and more graceful than the me from yesterday. That is the only comparison that should be done. And even then…we must also forgive ourselves when yesterday’s selves kicked today’s self’s ass. It’s okay to slip up. It is in those moments that we realize what our focus really is. Is it to wallow in self pity or is to stand up and try again? I am choosing standing up. I am trying every day. I accept the person I am today and also accept the challenge to better myself.

I will continue to fight for a graceful journey. And I hope everyone else out there grieving Tommy's loss or the loss of a friend or loved one can also find grace, beauty and peace along their paths.

P.S. Tommy, I love you. I miss you. I will be better because of you.

And Ever Thanks

Many of you know that the day finally came when I was able to meet the mountain rescue team that assisted in getting me off of the mountain after the accident that changed my life. They were also an integral part of bringing my husband home the next day. The Corvallis Mountain Rescue Unit along with several other local search and rescue teams, the Oregon National Guard, U.S. Coast Guard and Linn and Marion County Sheriff's were all major parts of the search and rescue effort and many of the individuals involved and institutions may never truly know how thankful I am for the help that they provided to me but also for the work they do on a regular basis. These individuals are often volunteers and leave their families and their homes to go out to assist complete strangers...and for that, I am forever thankful. Since I was airlifted off of Mt. Jefferson, I have only wanted one thing. I wanted to say thank you to those that fought so hard to rescue my husband and I. I wanted to personally thank each and every one of them and let them know that their work is beyond appreciated and recognized. That day came.

My family and I were able to meet the members of the Corvallis Mountain Rescue Unit a few days ago. We talked about how grateful we were for their aide and for them bringing Tommy back home to us. We laughed. We shared stories over beer. We talked about other outdoor activities. Where to buy the best skis. What the best dog food is. We talked about our normal day to day lives. We talked. We laughed some more. We hugged. There may or may not have been a few teary eyes in the room from time to time. But most of all, I was able to become acquaintances on a personal level with those that majorly impacted my life. One of the most fulfilling days ever.

I would like to share the thank you letter that I wrote to the team:

"To the Corvallis Mountain Rescue Unit,

 

You have said that you think of me and my family often. That is true for me as well, everyone on the team has been in my thoughts every day since the accident on Mt. Jefferson. I think about how everyone is processing the mission. I think about whether or not you were put in danger. I think about how you drop everything going on in your normal life to run out there and help strangers. I thank you for that, every day.

 

Being an emergency responder myself, I know we can beat ourselves up regarding how a call or a mission turns out. I am not sure if any of you are doing that regarding our mission but if you are, I want to assure you that you did everything right. You got to us as soon as you could and I am so grateful for your attempts. I watched you delicately dance on the ridgelines and navigate the glacier with precision. I also saw your kindness, generosity, and sincerity. I would hate for you to beat yourselves up over the outcome that weekend. You did everything right. You did everything perfectly.

 

Personally, you were part of my driving force during the night. I had nothing else to look forward to except your pending arrival. Many of you might have heard this or read this from the article in the newspaper, but you really were my beacons of hope through the night. Once we made contact, I realized that you were some of the most humble, caring, courageous, and selfless bad asses out there. You were no longer this fictitious character out in the distance, but human. You did not have to be so caring. Your mission was to rescue two stranded hikers, not be an emotional support system for a young widow. I guess what I am trying to say is that each and every one of you went above and beyond and showed exemplary care.

 

It was an honor.

 

From the bottom of my beat up and broken heart…Thank you."

 Were they brought into my life because of shitty circumstances? Absolutely! But I feel like certain individuals are always brought into your life for a reason and I truly believe that these amazing individuals were not just brought into my life for a mountain rescue. Maybe it was so that I would finally chase my distant dream of joining search and rescue. Maybe it was to see how selfless others could be. Maybe it was to show me the nature of humanity...that there is still good in the world. Who knows?

Me and Tyler (the first rescuer to me)

Speaking of people being brought into your lives for different reasons, I met another fantastic person today. I took my mom, who hasn't been on skis in over thirty years, skiing today. I decided that we would start with lessons. I put her in a beginner lesson and myself in a more advanced lesson. There was only one other person in my group, he volunteers for Eugene Mountain Rescue. Eugene Mountain Rescue was also involved in our mission on Mt. Jefferson. I honestly do not think that it was chance that he was the only other skier on a busy weekend in my lesson group. I was able to personally thank him for all his work that weekend and to the rest of his teammates. He gave me some information on ways to become a part of a search and rescue team and also a pretty established climbing community in the area. We can think situations occur by chance but sometimes the signs are too obvious to miss.

To all of the individuals that worked so hard Thanksgiving weekend...I cannot thank you enough. You may never truly know or realize how much you mean to me and how much you have impacted my life. Forever Thanks!

P.S. I love you, Tommy. You are my heart and soul.