The mountains are calling and I must go


We are returning to Colorado next week to celebrate family, love, and my mom. Her birthday was Sunday, July 1st. She would have been 66. The one year anniversary of her death is July 16th. And we will be here:


Lily Pad Lake in Silverthorne, Colorado. This was one of my mom’s favorite hikes and my family’s as well. Casey, James and I hiked here last July,¬†while I frantically texted back and forth with my siblings about my mom’s first blood transfusion. It was after this hike that I would drive hours into the night – to make it home in time to see and talk to my mom before she slipped away.

We didn’t know mom’s burial wishes. We remembered past conversations about her wanting to be buried next to Grandma and Grandpa Mosher and also being buried in Colorado… So we’re doing both. Mom is here for us to honor with visits as much as we want. And after July 16, 2018, she will also be in Colorado, sprinkled among the lilypads, aspens, and mountains that she loved so much.

I feel excited and anxious at the same time. It will be healing, but yet another closure to something that I don’t want closed.

As I move into this space and experience next week, I aim to be gentle with myself and gentle with my family. To do only what feels right. To feel whatever I feel. To let people help. To talk about it – or don’t. And to hold onto hope.

Hold onto hope.

To rely on humor and fun as a family. To be silly together. To laugh together. To cook together, play games together, hike together – and build new memories together.

And my mom will be a part of these memories. She’s here in spirit. Always. Here in Lawrence. There in Colorado. And everywhere in between. Alongside the wind. During the storms. Upon the leaves. In the sunshine.

“Climb the mountains and get their good tidings. Nature’s peace will flow into you as sunshine flows into the trees. The winds will blow their own freshness into you, and the storms their energy, while cares will drop away from you like the leaves of Autumn.”