Redemption

Where did I go wrong?
I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life. -The Fray in "How To Save a Life"

Day 194. An amazing, beautiful, redemptive day that left me figuring out how I can move to Durango. I will elaborate on this blog when I return to Oklahoma. Presently I am on the hotel computer, and the internet service is questionable and fickle. No worries - I am used to indulging the dinasaur back home.

With some general directions compliments of Google, my son and I headed out for a day hike late this morning. As luck would have it, we ended up at the trailhead of a breathtaking trail up a mountain not five miles outside of Durango. We hiked up, up, up until we reached a high ridge with a view over the entire (gotta look it up) mountain valley. Evidently, my son inherited Scottish highlander genes from his mother; he is gifted in climbing and bouldering and fearless at the edge of things. What a delightful hiking companion. He repeatedly treked out to the very edge of several rock bluffs along the ridge, calling out to me to take his picture with his cell phone. I obliged, and will post pictures in the next couple of days. He took several of me as well. We seem to have no qualms about hanging out on the edge of steep dropoffs, high up on a Colorado mountainside. I'm very glad my son, like me, is in his element on the edge of things.

The most spectacular moment occurred just after I had snapped his picture - out on a bluff looking east up the valley. I heard him exclaim, "Mom!" and point to the sky. There, drifting on the high air currents, was a spectacular falcon soaring above the valley floor. From the edge of the bluff where I was dangling my legs, I watched him wafting gently through the warm air. He was dark brown against the dazzling blue of the Colorado sky, coasting, barely moving his wings. I could feel the effortless movement of that magnificent bird, floating through the sky, surrendering to the direction of the breeze. Breathless, I followed his flight until the brown of him disappeared against the mountainside.

Tears welled, and I was awash with a sense of peace. Wherever spirits go, whatever follows death, I am certain that there is peace and grace. The beauty of that moment: a glorious day with my son, a brilliant summer sky, a mountain valley awash with the shades of deep green only late summer can produce - the moment collided with a sense of absolute certainty that Tom is at peace. He is in the realm of the One Love. His spirit resounded throughout the valley. We felt him there. We celebrated his life. We joined him at the juncture where boundaries melt away, and only love remains.

The remainder of the day was every bit as magical, but I want to end tonight's blog with the memory of the falcon. I could never make this up. It was Real and True and Here. I know that Tom would be pleased with how we spent today. After all, he was there with us, soaring through the sky.

Gassho,
CycleBuddhaDoc