While on Vacation...

 I choose to trust.

The lights dim for a minute as a surge of power races through these old electrical lines. I am wearing a backpack, filled with all kinds of emergency first aid gear – I worry. I carry everything but a flash light in this pack. The boulders beneath the ground feel cold as my body leans into them for leverage. My footing unsure. My 4 year old begins to panic and in turn alarms her little brother. My older children search my face for assurance. I am angry that I did not think of bringing along a flash light. (Who would travel with her four precious children down into this deep dimly lit abyss without a flashlight?? ) My instincts are in conflict with my surroundings… But then I hear his voice of logic and I remember all the years that my father has guided me through. Now trustingly blind – Onward I choose to go.  I am strengthened by his wisdom and his courage and I finally hear cheers of relief as we see slivers of sunlight pouring down into the tunnel.  I exit the Polar Caves -- My dad wraps his arms around me and we laugh.

I remember to believe …

But it is difficult as I watch her face as she leaves the tiny chapel. My heart is both elated and deflated for her. She is crying, but does not want anyone to see her.  I read her face. I know her thoughts before she speaks them. I have been studying her every move since I was a child. After all, she is my mom and I am an extension of her very being. She searches the playful crowd for me and our eyes meet. Where else would this happen, but here?   Here -- at this place,  we are surrounded by all the things my grandmother loved most. Some might think we are crazy with such notions.  But, we are not convinced that those we have loved...who have died...are completely gone from our earthly world. We would like to believe that they send us love filled messages in the form of memories or through the words of kind strangers to let us know that we are not alone on this journey. A sort of confirmation...a reminder found amongst the joy…at Santa’s Village.

I embrace determination…

But the passage looks impossibly difficult.  The view is breathtaking. The crystal clear cascading waters fall with a gentle force that only nature can produce. He examines the scene, his calculating quiet fills us all. He has his shirt and shoes off-- his socks are nearly placed inside them on a rock beside the stream that flows gingerly away from this natural wonder.  The water is frigid -- at times almost chest deep --and it’s total depth and inhabitance truly unknown. Yet, we follow him across this frigid pond, slipping and sliding until we reach the small cliff.  We are nervous, but he is confident and his determination inspires us to try. We clumsily climb up the rock face and sit behind the waterfall. It is amazing. I watch as my children smile in wonder at their father. My husband’s gaze meets mine and we know peace as we sit at Thompson Falls…

Funny…I sit here now amongst the unpacked chaos brought inside my house from the weary minivan. I close my eyes and sigh. I smile as I reflect upon these moments found at the most unexpected times… Just some lessons learned-- I guess..

--- While on vacation.