The hike itself was rough. Three miles each way, with an elevation gain of between 2200-2400 feet. Nine years earlier, when the group Aimee and I were in hiked this mountain, it was a gorgeous fall day, sunny and warm. Today? Not so much. More than half a foot of snow at the trailhead. Up to several feel deep by the time we got to the top. The temperature at the car was 35 degrees - at the top it felt like it was in the teens. We hike all the way up in a combination of clouds and fog. The top affords some fantastic views when it's clear, but it wasn't when we got there. More clouds and fog, and little visibility.
|The skies opened up as it came time |
to say my goodbye to Aimee
It didn't last long initially, but long enough that with a breathtaking (literally) panoramic view, I began my final goodbye to Aimee.
Bart videotaped it, and I'll post it some time in the next few days. In the meantime, I'll tell you that it was hard, so very hard to actually open that box and fling her ashes out into the air at the top of the mountain. But I did it, and it felt like the right thing to do. Plus, it was Aimee's wish to be cremated and have her ashes scattered, so I feel good about what happened today.
Almost immediately after we were done, the fog rolled back in.
We packed up our gear and began our return trek. But as if Aimee was smiling on us, the skies cleared again shortly after we'd started back down, and stayed that way pretty much the whole way back. The views we saw were nothing short of amazing, and I once again felt like I had done the right thing, leaving Aimee to rest in such a gorgeous setting (although her spirit is with God now).
So now I just need to go to bed. As I said I am exhausted, but I feel good, like someone who's done what they know is right.
As for Aimee, I'll see her one day in Paradise.