Fare Thee Well

“If I had wings, like Noah’s dove, I’d fly up the river to the one I love, fair thee well, my honey, fare thee well.”  Oscar Isaac

 I can remember my last day with John with so much detail that if I close my eyes, I can almost feel him.  I got home from work that Friday and found John in our garage (his man cave), working on his mountain bike.  After work routines usually consisted of the two of us cracking open a beer and discussing our day.  As I asked him how his day was, John started telling me about all of his weekend plans.  He was going to work on his mountain bikes, go kayaking with his good friend Jared, and play music with his new friend Joe.  For some reason when he said these things to me, I took one look at him and burst into tears.  Believe me; this was out of character for me.  I never had a problem with my husband’s independence.  I was the same in a lot of ways.  Not every weekend was spent hand in hand.  While many of them were adventuring together, sometimes we had our own personal adventures.  I turned and walked into the kitchen feeling silly that I had just had this melt down with him.   John appeared in the kitchen about 10 minutes later and said, “Muffin, I’ve cancelled all of my Saturday plans.  I’d like to spend the entire day with you, doing everything you would like.  I don’t care what those things are; I’ll be there with you while you do them.”  I have to admit this really shocked me, John had just rambled off all of his plans to me with excitement.  Now he was cancelling them?  I asked him why?  He said, “I can’t stand to see you upset, I’d like to spend the day with you.” 

So, we spent the entire day together the next day.  We got up that morning and had coffee on our front porch that overlooks the mountains with Jake.  We went to the farmer’s market together and bought fresh baked bread.  We walked throughout downtown to a few thrift shops in search for the two perfect reading chairs for the reading room we wanted to put together.  We ended up finding two chairs for a total of $55.00.  An old lazy boy recliner and a green chair.  Before hauling those back home we went decided to get biscuits and gravy at a restaurant called Blind George’s, known for its homemade popcorn, ice cream, and of course, biscuits and gravy.  We took our reading chairs home, loaded our mountain bikes and headed towards Cathedral Hills with our dog.  We spent the next 2 hours mountain biking the Outback Loop trail followed by Zed’s trail until Jake tired out.  I loved riding behind John and watching him soar through the woods on his Santa Cruz with Jake galloping closely behind.  He was an incredible mountain biker, with some of the best technical riding skills I have ever seen.  Later that afternoon we spent time in our reading room scrubbing our new chairs.  John stayed up there scrubbing those chairs for a solid hour before he felt satisfied.  I remember while we were cleaning our chairs, John turned to me and said, “I want to make sure I talk to my parents today on google chat since I’m going kayaking tomorrow and I won’t be able to see them.”   I have to admit, this struck me as a little bit odd coming from John.  John loved his family so much, but there were many weekends that we missed google chatting with his parents, his brother and sister in-law.  Missing these chats we’re never intentional, John simply viewed the weekends as a time to be outside and have an adventure.  He always knew that his family understood this about him.  I ran to the grocery store and when I got back I heard him chatting upstairs.  About 10 minutes later he appeared at the top of our stairs and said, “Muffin, come talk to my parents.”  So John and I sat in our new reading room with his parents and talked.  John showed off our new reading room to them, the new chairs, and told them how he was going kayaking tomorrow.  I remember right before the conversation ended, John told them that he loved them.  Later that evening I was at our dryer folding some laundry.  John had been outside doing some things in the garage.  When he came in the house, he came up behind me, spun me around and wrapped his arms around me.  We just stood there in silence holding each other.  I remember, resting my head against his chest and listening to his heartbeat.  John was a lot taller than me, so he would always lean his cheek down towards my face and I would always plant a kiss right on his cheek.   I remember him leaning his face towards mine and turning his head to the side so I could kiss his cheek.  He then looked right into my eyes and said, “I love you muffin.”  It was a moment that is so precious to me now, one that I often revisit and dream about.  That night we went to our favorite Thai restaurant in Grants Pass.  After dinner, John played music with his new friend Joe for 2 hours.  This was something I encouraged him to do; I am so glad that I did.

The next morning when we woke up, it was foggy and raining.  John was supposed to be leaving with Jared around 8:30am to head to Brigg’s Creek to go kayaking.  My plans were to head to the Smith River to paddle a Class II-III section with my friend Lori who was teaching some friends how to kayak.  I was in the kitchen putting John’s lunch bag together for his river trip.  He came in after loading his boat and said, “Muffin, Jared says that Brigg’s creek is washed out, we can go down to the Smith with you and run the Middle fork if you want?”  This sounded great to me.  I had never run the Middle Fork and had wanted to for a while.  The Middle Fork of the Smith is normally known as a Class III-IV 6 mile stretch of continuous white water.  I had not heard from my friend Lori yet, so I told him that would be great.  Jared arrived shortly after and told us that the river was rising rapidly and things should be big down at the Smith.  This seemed to excite both him and John.  I remember hearing that and feeling nervous.  John and I got in the Prius and began to follow Jared towards California.  It continued to rain.  I remember turning to John and asking him if he thought the river would be too high.  He said what he always said to me when he sensed my nerves, “Oh muffin, it will be fine, you will be fine, it will be a fun day.”  As we approached the Smith River, it became very apparent to me that I would not be kayaking that day.  The river was huge and clearly continuing to rise.  I had never seen it that big before.  We drove and scouted the Middle Fork section.  What was normally a Class III-IV river looked like a Class IV+-V, mainly because of the consequences of swimming.   We got to the take out and Jared asked me how I was feeling.  I told him, “I’m out guys, I don’t feel confident to be on the water today, and swimming isn’t an option today.”  Jared turned to John and said, “What are you thinking John?”  John looked at me and said, “I came to go kayaking today.”   I knew he would be putting on.  Jared and John then decided to go run the Upper South Fork Gorge, a Class IV-V section that was considered to be narrow, steep and big.  I remember when we got to the take- out; Jared turned to John and said, “It will be big, steep and technical.”  John then said, “Let’s go look at it.” 

We then rode to the put in.  I remember it began to pour rain.  John gave me his rain pants and told me to put them on, which I was glad considering I had jeans on.  Both of them geared up while I stood with them.  I remember we were discussing a car accident that a friend of ours had recently been in and luckily was ok.  I remember Jared turning to both of us and saying, “I try not to worry about when I am going to die or when my time is, I simply try to live in the moment each day.”  I remember us both agreeing with him.   Looking back, this gave me chills when I thought about what Jared said that day.  For some reason, I felt an urge to walk with them to the put in, even though it was pouring rain and I was getting soaked.  I wanted to be with them and see where they were going.  We hit the trail and started to hike down into a gorge.   I remember hearing the water roaring below.  We came across a waterdog while hiking that was on the trail and dying.  John yelled, “Whoa!  What is that?”   I remember the three of us stopping and staring at it for a few minutes.  John had never seen one before and felt really bad that it was hurt.  Jared realized that the trail did not lead directly to the river and the two of them would have to bush whack about 100 yards.  You could see the river from the trail; just not access it without heading through some major brush.  Finally the three of us stopped, Jared turned to John and said, “This looks as good as any access point.”  With that Jared started to step into the bushes and make his way through the woods.  John looked at me with his kayak and said, “Muffin, as soon as I am done with this, I will go kayak an easier section with you.  I bet Jared will even set our shuttle for us.”  I said, “That sounds great muffin, I’ll see you soon.”  He looked at me, smiled, and then began to head into the woods.  I remember standing on the trail in the pouring rain, watching my husband hike with his boat towards the river.  I remember seeing the back of his striped helmet get smaller and smaller.  I stood there and watched him until he disappeared into some brush, and even after that I remember just standing there continuing to watch the woods in the pouring rain.  There isn’t a day that goes by that I don’t think of that last moment on the trail, and then watching him walk into the woods towards the river.

I made my way back to the car and drove to the take-out.  At this level, I knew it would only take them an hour at most to meet me there; the water was moving so fast.  Two hours went by and they had not shown up yet.  I stood on the bridge waiting for a while and then decided to sit in the car because it was raining so hard.  At 2 ½ hours, I saw a truck pull up with Jared inside.  The minute he got out of the car and looked at me, I knew something was wrong.  He came over to me and said, “Erin, John swam, and I never saw him resurface.  I’ve already called search and rescue, they are on the way.  I am going to go back up towards where we started and hike in, I want you to stay here until search and rescue gets here.”  I remember bending over when he said this and bursting into tears.  The words “search and rescue” felt like knives in my chest.  Jared grabbed me and hugged me, told me he would be fine and we would find him.  He jumped back into the truck and quickly disappeared up the road.  I walked over to the bridge that hung over the river and began to skim the water for anything, his boat, paddle, a sign of his life jacket, anything.  I skimmed the cliff sides, islands in the middle of the river; I looked for what felt like hours.  I remember dropping to my knees in the rain and beginning to pray.  I begged God to not take my husband away from me, please don’t let this be his time, please save him and let him be ok.  I remember telling God that this would end me if something happened to John.  I remember telling God I would do anything he wanted me to do, give up everything I own and love if it meant saving John.  Shortly after this I heard the sirens and then a caravan of cars come racing towards the bridge.  Ambulances, forest rangers, county sheriff’s.  They were draped in rescue gear, ropes, binoculars, first aid kits, walkie-talkies, you name it. 

They were not able to get a helicopter into the gorge that day due to the rain.  All I wanted was for that damn helicopter to get into the gorge, if John was hurt or stuck somewhere they would spot him before anybody else could.  Hiking into the gorge would take hours and would require some serious climbing skills.  We didn’t have that kind of time.  The rest of that day was a blur.  I remember as darkness approached, search and rescue could not go on any longer.  They had been searching for about 5 hours at that point.  They told Jared and me they would be back first thing tomorrow morning to start again.  I remember wanting to scream.  There was no way in hell I was leaving without John.  Jared and I drove around for hours after that down every fire road you could imagine.  We honked the horn, got out and yelled, sat in silence.  It continued to pour down rain.  I have never felt more useless in my entire life.  John could be anywhere needing our help and we couldn’t get to him.  Finally, Jared told me we needed to get into town with cell service and start calling some kayakers.  As hard as it was for me to drive out of that gorge, I knew how important it would be to get some help from some local boaters the next morning so I agreed to go.  We drove into town.  Jared spent the next hour getting a group of safety boaters together that would be meeting us the next morning to help.  I then made the tough decision to call my parents and John’s parents and inform them of what was going on.  I couldn’t even get the words out on the phone.   It was my worst nightmare.

Jared and I stayed with a local that night that was gracious enough to offer his home up to us.  I did not sleep at all.  Around 1am I sent a message out to our friends back east and told them what was happening and asked them all to pray.  Within that 12 hour period, there were people praying for John all over the country.  I have always been and always will be so grateful for the power of prayer.  I remember sitting on the bed shortly after sending out that message, and something very strange happened.  It was dark in my room and I could hear the rain and I just sat on the edge of the bed sobbing.  In that moment, I felt a presence beside me, as if John was sitting right beside me on that bed with his arm around me.  I had never had an experience like this before.  I remember I immediately started talking to him.  I remember saying, “Muffin, I know you are here with me right now.  Whatever happened to you, I want you to go back and fight.  Go back to wherever you are right now and fight.  You can’t go yet, we have way too much to do.  Please go back muffin, I love you, please go back.”  I knew he was there in that room with me, I could feel him.  While that feeling was so peaceful, I knew what it meant and that was something I was not willing to face yet.  So, I told him to go back. 

Jared and I met a group of 7 kayakers at 5am the next morning to begin the search.  They split into two groups to hike into the gorge, upper and lower.  They felt it was best for me to stay back and wait for search and rescue to show up.  Once search and rescue arrived, I felt like I needed to do something, hike in and help, not just stand there waiting.  My friend Lisa suddenly drove up, another avid kayaker and incredible friend.   She had heard of John missing through another kayaker and immediately got in her car and found me. The two of us got in her car and drove up to the put-in, where I hiked in with John and Jared the day prior.  We began to hike in and see if we could see any progress and help.   It was strange.  The day before there was so much rain, I didn’t notice how beautiful this hike was.  That day with Lisa, the sun broke through the trees and the moss glistened on each rock.  There were also multiple water falls that we came across as we continued into the gorge.  After hiking for about an hour, we decided to turn and head back up to see if there was any news.  About halfway back to the trail head, we came around a switch back, and there stood a search and rescue man waiting.  The minute I looked at him, I knew.  I asked him if they had found John.  He just nodded.  He then said, “Erin, let’s take a walk up to the car.”  I planted my feet and told him no.  He then said to me what I would find out later to be inaccurate.  “Erin, we found John.  He was pinned underneath a rock.  He is dead.  We may not be able to get him out of there until tomorrow.”  I remember after he said this, I turned to Lisa and everything got blurry.  My vision, sounds, my grounding, everything.  Lisa grabbed me and I told her I needed to sit down.  I remember sitting down and beginning to shriek.  I grabbed onto Lisa and planted my face into her.  I felt like I may pull her to the ground I grabbed her so tight.  I remember her saying, “Erin, you do whatever you need to do right now.  It isn’t fair; it’s not fair at all.”  Looking back, I would not have had any other person with me in that moment; she was a rock solid friend for me while I received the worst news of my life.  I somehow made it back to the take-out where search and rescue was stationed with Lisa’s help.  I quickly received news that the kayakers were going to get him out of there, not to worry, he would come out today.   Lisa drove me out of the gorge shortly after that back to Grants Pass.  I couldn’t be there when they pulled him out of that river, I just needed to know that he was coming out and would not be left there another night.  A few days later I would be told that John was never pinned under a rock, he was simply washed up on some logs in the middle of the river, not submerged at all.  Jared told me that once they got him out and to the river bank, he sat with John on the river bank just staring at his peaceful face.  He could not believe he was gone, he looked so peaceful.

I talk to John’s dad every Tuesday now, it’s our routine.  I adore John’s dad.  To me, he is like a father.  He shows kindness, strength and wisdom that I hope to acquire someday.  I hear John when I talk to him and I see John when I see Herb.  There was no one else that John had more respect for than his dad.   We were talking about John’s ashes and John’s dad said two things to me that really resonated with me.  He said, “Erin, if this happened to you, and John were left here on earth, what would you want John to do?”  I had never thought of things this way before but the answer came to me so clearly.   He then told me that as time passes, he hopes I will release John’s ashes into the places that we loved.  He told me that I am too important not to move forward and I can’t hold onto his ashes forever, John would not want that. 

I decided this weekend I would release John back to some of the beautiful places we loved.  My brother in law put together three small bags for me this morning in our reading room.  Lizzie and Luke drove with me into beautiful Northern California.  I spread John among some beautiful redwood trees, the Oregon coast and finally, the Smith River.  There was something so peaceful about holding him in my hand and then slowly opening my palm and letting the wind carry him back to the earth.  I could feel him smiling and saying “Thanks Muffin”.  Back to where he loved.  The Smith River was the last place I released him today.  Jake and I did it together.  You will see it in the picture which I find so symbolic.  You can see John in the air, beside Jake and I as I let go.  He is with us and he is with you.  He rest among the red woods, the mountains, the rivers, the coast, his spirit is in all these places.  I look forward to spreading him all over this beautiful country where he will see and feel beauty everywhere he looks.