It was three years ago at this time, we arrived in Alaska.
As I sit here at Sheree's, I remember stopping here on our way north. Jon and the boys worked so hard at getting our things wrapped in a canvas tarp and strapped down good and tight on top of our trailer house.
By time we got into Montana, the wind had whipped our tarp to pieces and snow was getting into everything we had. Your swelling prevented you from climbing up on top and rearranging everything, so that left only me...the one who is afraid of heights.
I climbed up, with the snow blowing in my face, and carefully tied a rope onto our items and lowered them down to you to put in our trailer house and on the back of your truck.
We made it through Alberta without anymore problems, but outside of Watson Lake we hit such a storm and the roads were slick. The trailer house slid off the side of the road and got stuck. In your attempt to get it back on the road, you blew one of the dual tires on your truck.
I was driving my car in front of you, and when I hit a patch of ice and did a doughnut without intending too, I wondered if we were going to make it or not. When we made it to Whitehorse, I was insistent we buy chains for my car but you convinced me we wouldn't need them, that the worse was behind us. You were right Honey. The rest of the way was fine and we arrived in Alaska to sunshine.
I compare my life now, to that trip. The worst is behind me. The worst was losing you. I will see the sunshine again, when I am with you again. Until then, I will just keep driving. I will keep focused on the road in front of me. I will look at the sunrise and sunsets, smell the rain on the hot pavement, listen to God as He speaks to me through all He has created. And in listening to God, I will also hear your voice, for you so loved His creations.
The road of my life has once again brought me to Idaho. I look out and see the Tetons and I remember you.
I love you Honey.
Far Beyond the 12th of Never