Valley Lows

It's been a couple years hemming and hawing over taking this trip. Last fall, we made the reservations and started the planning. I have wanted to be so excited and yet, I didn't allow myself to get excited until the trip was pretty much over.

I love to travel but this is the first time ever that I didn't want to leave for a trip. I didn't want to leave my Dad because he continues to slip away from me and I just don't know what kind of time I have left. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't selfishly scared that he would leave me while we were gone. I was so anxious about it, that the first day of driving I was already exhausted.

Wednesday we spent a day exploring Waterton National Park and while it was beautiful and the hike challenging all I kept thinking on the hike was "Where are you God?" and "What am I supposed to do?" "Where have I gone?" 

On Thursday, we hadn't planned to do any hiking. Just simply drive down to St. Mary and take the Going to the Sun Road. Instead we stopped at Many Glacier, did a 2.3 mile loop around Swiftcurrent Lake and then on a whim took another trail. A family coming down told us it was steep but the falls were worth it. We wanted to try despite the girls being a little tired, the wind driving mad and the sun hot. Inwardly I was tired too. I did not want to go, but Jon was encouraging and I didn't want to miss the opportunity. The girls vocally complained, I did in my mind. We stopped and started, stopped and started. The girls did it, we made it and I wanted them to feel proud. Me, I just felt tired and mad because I was still wondering where God is, hoping for this "mountaintop experience" that would give me answers. And there I stood at the top of the falls feeling depleted and kind of mad. 

The struggle to the top of Apikuni Falls was simply that: a struggle. Much of this vacation has not been a vacation, but simply work. (I mean, 40+ hours in a car with 3 kids?!) Much of my past 3-4 years has been struggle and work, grief and valley lows. Sometimes life is just simply full of valley lows.

It wasn't until today on our first long drive home watching the mountain range disappear in the rearview mirror that maybe I got the "mountain high" I was wanting. But it definitely wasn't what I had in mind . After 4 whirlwind days of hiking and exploring Waterton/Glacier, this is what I have come to know...

When I've gone on vacation in the past it was more to escape from/run from/take a time out from something. Sometimes I can be a runner away from things and I think it's in the running away that I will find my answers or things will just disappear and feel better. And sometimes that’s true; we all need time away. At first, I kept looking back at those mountains because it took the whole 4 days for me to finally be excited and I wanted to run back to the mountains; to run back to something that for once didn't involve dementia. However, while it's been glorious to be away, to lose myself in nature and lose all sense of days and time, there's been no running away from my Dad being on my mind and near my heart. Because when I turned away from the mountains and looked forward again, it hit me that no matter where I go I cannot run away from the fact that I'm living a story that will end in me losing my Dad to damn dementia.

I've been feeling for a while now as though I've lost a lot of my resolve. The resolve to believe that things would be okay; that even though I wasn't in control I knew God was. The resolve of not letting the diagnosis of dementia keep me from seeing the person my Dad truly is. I feel I had the resolve to get through this journey. But that resolve waxed and waned and lately it's just disappeared. I've been frustrated with myself because it has seemed like I've given up. I've been frustrated because I haven't taken on other commitments I normally would. Frustrated with many things.

I realized today that while this is so difficult and scary and sad, it's the running back to something that I know is going to be so difficult that I have found my answer.There's no running away from what has simply become part of my story on this journey through life. Maybe I never lost my resolve. Maybe I just got weighed down by grief and expectations. Maybe it’s okay that I’m not adding extra things to my plate. Maybe I haven't taken on more commitments because I've finally learned my limits when life throws a curve ball. Maybe my fight just looks different now. Maybe it’s not about finding answers or wondering why or trying to fix. Maybe it’s simply about sitting with Dad and holding his hand and being at peace with that.

I made it up to those falls and I've been making it through this journey the best I can.

Sometimes the answers and feeling of peace don’t coming in the mountain highs. Sometimes, it’s comes when you’re living in the valley lows.

“If you are normal and philosophical; if you love your country; if you are willing to learn how little you count in the eternal scheme of things; if you are prepared, for the first day or two, to be able to locate every muscle in your body and a few extra ones that seem to have crept in and are crowding, go ride in the Rocky Mountains and save your soul.” Mary Roberts Rinehart