Close to the Edge: Paddle On

"You have searched me, Lord, and you know me. You know when I sit and when I rise; you perceive my thoughts from afar. You discern my going out and my lying down; you are familiar with all my ways. Before a word is on my tongue you, Lord, know it completely. You hem me in behind and before, and you lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me, too lofty for me to attain. Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your hand will hold me fast. If I say, "Surely the darkness will hide me and the light become night around me," even the darkness will not be dark to you; the night will shine like the day, for darkness is as light to you. For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place, when I was woven together in the depths of the earth. Your eyes saw my unformed body; all the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be." Psalm 139:1-17

Last weekend I believe something incredible happened, and while I think it may be hard to explain, I want to try. A good friend and I decided to spend the day kayaking the Lower Gauley river. It was a beautiful day and the level was just right. The lower Gauley is an absolutely beautiful 11 mile stretch of Class III-IV white water that takes you through an endless gorge. It's common to encounter picturesque cliff sides, wild flowers, birds singing, and world class rapids. The lower Gauley was the first river in West Virginia I began to kayak with John. We spent so much time on this river together so it only felt appropriate to spread his ashes along the shoreline when I returned to the east coast last fall. I remember releasing him above this beautiful rapid called "Canyon Doors," before pushing out into the current and blasting through each exploding wave. I was so sad when I did this, and I remember feeling lost out there without him. Months have gone by since this experience and I took somewhat of a break from kayaking after that fall.

As I approached this rapid last Saturday I looked at the rock I once stood on to let him go. This incredibly warm feeling seemed to wash over me and for the first time since losing my best friend, I didn't have that overwhelming feeling of sadness, of loss. There was not that feeling of panic that I've experienced where I feel as if he is missing. This time, it was different. John was a beautiful memory, he was the river, the waves, the sun. I realized in that moment that John was a feeling. He was a strength within me. A time in my life that was so precious and wonderful. He was a beautiful thought. Like when you hear that song that brings you back to a great time in your life. A smell that reminds you of something you once experienced that was amazing. I realized as I approached his resting spot, that he is me, and he is all around me. For the first time, I didn't feel desperate, or this deep need to search for him. I just smiled as I dropped into this rapid that I used to follow him through so many times. He was with me and it felt wonderful.

I believe that God has allowed me to feel the loss of John over the last year. He has allowed me to walk with incredible pain, because he has to. It has allowed me to see the world differently and for that alone, I believe I'll be able to fulfill whatever purpose he has for me while I am here. I have grown stronger in my faith and my love for my creator. I also have to believe that as time passes, God allows us to experience loved one's that have gone before us in a way that does not bring pain, but instead brings strength and hope. God knows and understands everything about me, every thought, every moment, every fear. All I have to do is trust him and love him. I really believe it is that simple, yet as humans I think we get so caught up in our own feelings and worries that we forget that at times.

I have said before that John is a monumental pillar of strength for me and I mean that. But since losing him, that strength has always come with so much pain and the feeling of his absence. This time, that strength was different and I felt so grateful in that moment that I was feeling him in this new way that simply made me smile and paddle on.

I am a kayaker, and before this happened, I think John would have told you I was a good kayaker. Kayaking was a huge part of our relationship and our bond. We experienced different part's of the world together that one can only see from a river and those memories are ingrained in me forever. After my visit to California, I decided that I couldn't give this gift up because of what happened. John wouldn't want me to, and honestly, I don't want to. I love it. I can only hope that his death will bring more caution to others, that safety measures will be taken because of what happened to him. How could we not?

The feeling I experienced on the river last weekend has given me the energy to continue to embrace this new life, this new chapter as mine and mine alone. To continue to move forward and love what I do, where I live and the people I continue to meet. None of this is possible though without the God that I love, who is continuing to reveal this world to me in a beautiful new way.

I really look forward to hopefully having more moments like the one I experienced on the river. It's a beautiful reminder that our souls are eternal, and John is so near as I paddle on.