Today was I day that I knew I could try to prepare for, but was also aware that the truth was I never really could.
Today we made a trip up behind your old stomping grounds. We pushed through brush, trudged through mud and pouring rain. There were dead trees and old stumps with new life growing out of them; which seemed beautiful in the moment of sadness.
We arrived on Porcupine Hill; the place you spent your childhood, your adolescence and your your adulthood. I remember happy treks up through the woods and standing on the rocks looking out at the great expanse with my best friend by my side, my Daddy. I remember using broken tree limbs as hiking sticks, I remember you finding the highest rock and howling in the wind. I never thought one day we would stand on the top of that hill and watch your ashes fly away with the breeze. It was a moment of feeling like you’d left us, but a moment of simultaneously knowing you were finally free.
Today won’t be my last time on Porcupine Hill. I will visit for the rest of my days.
I wrote a journal entry last night and read it to you and our family. It was hard to get the words out between the heartbreak, the aching in my belly, and the wind and rain, but I did. I did, and I know you heard them.
For the love of life. 