My Only Words

On our boat from Vladivostok to South Korea, summer 2000

Dear Shannon-

How I miss you! I keep seeing your face in the intensive care – your lips dry and puffed up by the hideous ventilator. Your head sagging to the side because you were so sedated. Your stiff, short hair and all the needles in your skin. I wish I could have picked you up and carried you off and away to some summit in the mountains, or some grand adventurous place, the kind of place that I know would make you feel alive again. I would have laid you on a mountain peak and we would have been sunburned in happiness together.

I comb the mountainsides of my mind
Looking for remembrances of you
I hunt avidly for your memory
So to piece together
Some semblance of you

We sure had some grand adventures together – we sure did. I didn’t realize at the time all the wonderful gifts you were giving me. I’ll miss those times – stomping around those Russian train stations, trying to figure out where and how to go next – getting on an old boat bound for South Korea, not realizing that it was going to pick up 100’s of cars along the way.

Climbing mountains was the best part – they made you so happy. When we got lost and couldn’t figure out the silly maps we had, you couldn’t have been happier. There was no thrill for you like the thrill of challenge and adventure – the thrill of a mountain peak to climb, or a waterfall to find.

We got lost plenty – looking around for the trail and taking wrong turns – but we always seemed to find our way – we always got to where we were going eventually.

Now, this time, I can’t go with you. Before I could even think, you’ve slipped around the corner – so quickly you’ve vanished. There must be a waterfall around the bend that I can’t see yet – to me it just looks like a dead end.

I want to go with you, just like I always did, but I can’t. For now this waterfall is just for you to enjoy. You must be basking in your pleasure – you’ve reached the ultimate summit and the most beautiful waterfall of all. And you’ll feel God’s presence again just as much as you ever longed to feel as you climb around on the rocks and drink up the wildness of it all.

It’s just not the same, hiking without you. But I’ll keep trying to find the way – just like you always taught me. I’ll keep trying to find that waterfall too. And I’ll just keep thinking of you out on some grand adventure – looking back every so often, just to see when we’ll catch up.