(Photos are from my Instagram feed @Lilblueboo)
The profile of Grandfather mountain yesterday morning from where my parent’s house is:
We’ve spent the last two days in Linville visiting my mom, my brother and his family at my parents’ house. Two days ago, as we approached Grandfather Mountain, Boo began weeping in the back seat:
Boo: I wish I had died in the tornado.
Me: What?! Why would you say that?
Boo: Because then I would be in heaven…and I would see Grandpa.
Me: But we would miss you!
Boo: Oh, but you would have died too.
I guess at least she has the whole afterlife thing figured out, but we were pretty taken aback by her sudden response to a place. It reminded me of this:
Wherever you go becomes a part of you somehow. -Anita Desai
Yes sometimes it is hard to believe that my dad is gone. Everything in Linville reminds us of him. Like the Linn Cove Viaduct…every time he took us over it he’d say some thing like “here’s the Viaduct…the road is just suspended over the mountain.”
The first day we were in Linville it was pretty overcast. We drove up to the Mile High Bridge at Grandfather anyways. A few years ago I took Boo by myself and I refused to walk across. I look thrilled and enthusiastic this time too:
Ok I was pretty proud that all three of us went across. Fun fact: the highest temperature ever recorded on the top of Grandfather was 83 degrees.
Standing in the middle of the bridge:
As I walked back across the bridge I noticed a family huddled over the side like they were scoping out their surroundings. Then I noticed a jar one of them was holding: ashes. When they got back across I asked one of the men whose ashes they had released under the bridge. He told me it was his brother who had died 3 weeks earlier. We listened to their story for a while and then my mother walked up and she went right up to one of the women in the group and hugged her.
Me: Did you know them?
Mom: Oh yes, that was Glenda. She’s a hospice nurse where I volunteer.
After Grandfather we drove over to Julian Price Lake to rent a canoe. It’s only $13 for an hour. Brett and my brother Swen took turns rowing the kids around the lake. It’s a dreamy place:
My mom made us all dinner and afterwards we made a fire. Is there anything better than a crispy marshmallow?
While the kids burned sticks in the fire with the rest of the adults, Brett and I went on a walk at dusk. We noticed that it was so quiet we could hear our breathing. We are so used to the katydids in Bryson City that it seemed eerily quiet. No birds, no insects, nothing. And the cloudy mist comes in. It always looks so perfect that it looks fake to me…like someone brought in a smoke machine:
Yesterday morning we hiked to Linville Falls:
We persuaded my brother and his wife to come along with us and bring their two kids, and we all pitched in carrying my nephew Carter who is still toddling. Brett carried him the most because he’s part llama:
I got a stamp in my journal: [Read more...]