The following post was written three months after my late sister was diagnosed with cancer. I wanted to share it here as the words I wrote then, when she was still alive, have become even more prevalent since her death and have greatly helped to inspire this new venture. The lesson, I believe, is priceless, and will open the eyes of anyone struggling with grief, loss, depression or who are simply seeking inspiration to find meaning in their lives. I can still remember the hot sun beating down on my face as I struggled to keep up with my dad and two older sisters; the smell of sweat, dry dirt and pine infiltrating my dusted nostrils. My legs ached and scratched from trekking straight up the manzanita-filled, boulder-lined incline from the base of the meadow to the top of the pinnacles. With each breath I longed to be finished with this day. Why had I begged and pleaded for them to take me with? Why had I agreed to “not complain one bit” when my dad had warned me about the strenuousness of the trail? I was eight years old, hiking with my father, a seasoned outdoors-man, and my two pre-teen sisters, also decent hikers. I just wanted to be included. I’d always had a longing to be in the woods. I’d always liked taking walks on trails, but this God-forsaken, high-desert scorched landscape, and these unfathomable vertical trails were getting the […]
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