Okay, I’m beginning to see a light at the end of the proverbial tunnel again.
In September, my brother went camping and hiking in the Crestones in the Colorado. He was on a quest to climb every 14er in the state. He didn’t come back when he told his wife he would, so a search was initiated. Ultimately, the National Guard was called in. Due to snow, at first no sign of him was found. But when it began to melt, his tent and most of his supplies were found. At that point, our hopes of his survival were dashed. Over a foot of snow had fallen, and temperatures had dropped very low, with high winds. The search went on for several days, but he was not found. The SAR people believe he may be found after the snow melts from the north side of the Traverse between Crestone Peak and Crestone Needle. Until then it feels both real and unreal at the same time.
I entered the tunnel of grief. There is a dark, dark place we go when something this heartbreaking happens. I know there is a rough road ahead, now is just a plateau in the process. Once spring and summer comes around, the pull to that place will be strong, but life must also go on.
I just find I need to write again. I need to write about things other than my brother. For a while, that is all I could do. I’m still trying to find direction, but I know it will come.