I am grateful to be able to be writing this blog post from the patio of my aunt and uncle's guesthouse in Puyallup, Washington.  There's a beautiful view of Mt. Rainier from their backyard when the skies are clear.  Today, the clouds are covering her, but I can feel her presence.

When I am here, and especially when we visit the actual mountain, I am awestruck by it's beauty.  I am filled with peace and able to just relax.  Very few places can do that for me and that makes it even more meaningful.  

I tend to get emotional when I talk about this place, and people often ask me why it's so important to me.  It can be hard for me to put into words the depth of its meaning. 

But, I'll tell the story and see if I can do it justice.

In 1999, my cousin was getting married in a little town in Washington State, not far from Seattle or from Mt. Rainier.  My Dad and I took our one and only vacation together to her wedding.  Dad was a simple guy, a welder by trade and a no-nonsense, down to earth, genuine person. 

I had just started my career in the travel industry and took care of booking the flights and travel arrangements.  He told me more than a few times how proud he was of me and how I was "making something" of my life.  My childhood had been tough and I had worked hard to make my way through college and was on a successful career path.  I was so proud that he was so proud of me.  

That was our first and only trip together as adults.  We had actual grownup conversations and drank a lot of Starbucks coffee (or at least I did!).   I felt connected to him in a way that I never had before.  We went to Mt. Rainier for the first time together and hiked the wildflower trail with our family.  The view took our breath away.  I had never seen him so happy.  The memories of his smile and the way it felt to be there with him that day are forever ingrained in my heart.

And then life happened...

I got married shortly after that and was focused on my career and starting a family.  Dad lived in Illinois and had his own life challenges, and it was hard to make the time to see him.   He struggled with alcohol addiction and, now that I am older and wiser, I recognize there was also a touch of depression, and for sure loneliness. 

I didn't know how to help him, and was navigating my own life and it's twists and turns, trying to figure out who I was and how to raise my own family. 

Just ten short years after that trip, Dad passed away from a heart attack, at only fifty-six years old.  His last few years of life were really hard on him and he had basically stopped caring enough to truly take care of himself.  As I look at the view of the clouds hiding the mountain from this patio, my heart hurts for him and the struggles he went through.  I am also just a little bit angry at him, and feel guilty at the same time for not being able to do more. 

I try to come out here once a year now around Dad's birthday, and every time the experience is a little different, yet the feelings are the same. 

I feel Dad here, and I hope he is finally at peace. 

There are signs every time I come here that make his presence known.  This year, the mountain was hidden by a haze of smoke from wildfires in California and Oregon.  We had barely seen the peak the first few days of our trip.  When we headed up to the mountain on Dad's birthday, the locals told us that we would likely not see it even on the mountain itself.  But when we got to the lookout point, the skies cleared and the sun came out and the mountain peak was visible in all her glory.  It was like he was smiling and greeting us. 

And even this morning, as I write this blog post, there's a hummingbird that has come to visit me, hovering just a few feet from where I sit.  Just for a few moments at a time, but twice it has come back and both times it has made me smile. 

This year, my boys are with me out here.  They are old enough to understand that this place is special to me, but they don't feel the same emotional connection I do.  And that can be hard for me.  I want so much for them to grasp how important this is and to empathize with me and give me extra hugs and engage in deep conversations.  Who am I kidding, right?

The first time I brought them here, they were four years younger and it honestly was a disaster.  They fought the whole time and hated the long car rides.  We had to cut our hike on the mountain short because they couldn't stay on the trails.  They were too curious and wanted to go out into the woods and walk on the fallen trees.  I was still coming to terms with my divorce and my insecurities as a mother, so I was overly emotional and disappointed.  And I missed the chance to try to see this place through their eyes.

So, I left them at home the next few trips and connected with this place in a more adult way, on my journey to find myself and my life perspective.  It's a powerful experience for me when I am here.  I can sit and stare at this mountain for hours and it gives me a sense of serenity that I can't get anywhere else.  

Now that the boys are older, and I am in a much different place in my life, I was brave enough to try again.   And it's been an amazing trip so far.  They are both very different, but the perspective I have now is allowing me to see that in a positive way.  We have tailored the trip to bring in activities that engage each of them and their individual interests. 

Dad would have loved watching them as we hiked to the waterfalls on the mountain, spent the night in the caboose hotel and rode the steam engine train to the logging museum.  I am able to see the experience through their eyes this time and appreciate it in a whole new way.  

I hope this mountain speaks to them like it speaks to me and that they remember this trip in a very special way, just like I do the one I took with Dad. 

I will be sad to leave this place in a few days, but I will take these new memories and merge them with the old ones and carry them with me on my journey.  

And I will be back next year to make more.  

#mountain #memories #grateful #beautifullife #breathe #lovemyboys #sumofourchoices #livehappy