Artemis

“Artemis, “Goddess of Light’ had the Devine duty of illuminating the darkness.  She was often depicted carrying a candle or torch, lighting the way for others, leading them through territories uncharted.  Of all the Greek goddesses, she was the most self-sufficient, living life on her own terms, comfortable both in solitude and in holding the reigns of leadership.  She gives us courage.  She illuminates those places that terrify us, and lends us her strength to bring us safely through our fears.” 

I am currently reading a book that my mom gave me a few months back called “Saturday Night Widows.”  Sounds horrible doesn’t it?  I thought the same thing when she handed me the hard covered book with those big words.    I have so many grief books that people have given to me over the last 7 1/2 months, I could seriously have a library of sadness on Amazon.   Someone even gave me a book that looked like Little Red Riding Hood in her 70’s lost in the rain.  There were chapters on how to change light bulbs, pay bills, get gas, how to avoid strangers, and yes, even how to have sex again.  I'm just grateful for the light bulb chapter, phew!

The 5 stages of grief.  I believe our society puts high expectations on these stages.  If we aren’t progressing through the stages in order, something must be wrong.  I can tell you from my experience so far, there is no linear progression.  I can feel everything at once, I can feel nothing, I can feel strong, I can feel shocked, I can feel angry, I can feel despair, I can feel crazy, I can start to feel normal, and then I am not normal, and then I am hollow.  All of this can happen in order, out of order, repeating itself, or in a chaotic roller coaster.  It’s been over 7 months and I can’t tell you where I am because its different every day and its unpredictable.  Some mornings I wake up and feel a small accomplishment because John's death was not the first thing that crossed my mind, I actually thought about something else.  Other days I wake up in a sweat because I've had nightmares and my mind is consumed by John's death.  Both scenarios usually make for a better or worse day.   I believe this must be different for everyone and there is no general formula that fits every person.  It’s impossible.

When John died, I remember a week later  I immediately went into business execution mode.  I had this feeling of complete stress over the impersonal business logistics of dealing with the loss of your spouse.  Cancelling credit cards, putting cars and motorcycles in my name, completing his taxes, changing bills to simply Erin Wilburn, bank accounts, social security, life insurance, looking at my financial situation as now a widow vs a spouse.  I dove right into it with my sisters and took care of everything in a matter of 2 weeks.  Phone call after phone call, email after email until all business ordeals under his name were erased.  It’s not a choice either, everyone is faced with these task when their spouse dies and it sucks. Even now that I am living in a new home, I continue to get new mail for John.  Companies wanting him to sign up for cable, get a security system, report to jury duty.  I make another walk to the file cabinet to pull death certificates and let the world know again that he's gone.  The impersonal.

Apparently the pace at which I got this portion completed was not normal.  Some of this stuff takes a year for others to accomplish, but it’s all I could think of to do at the time.  John would have fully expected it to from me, it’s what I am good at, getting things done quickly, "to do" list.  John was voted “Best Procrastinator” of his senior class in high school and man was he a master at it.  I was amazed at how he could wait until the last minute, yet turn in a beautiful piece of work with forestry consulting, his dissertation in grad school, drive late into the night yet find the perfect camping spot in the middle of no where.  The first time I met John’s parents, we drove together to Toms Brook.  I remember being totally stressed on this drive because John had not mentioned to them when or what time he would be arriving.   Yet, things always worked out and he was never stressed.  I on the other hand am the polar opposite.  I am a planner, and a bit of a worrier.  Our differences made us a perfect balance for each other, with the perfect amount of intensity towards any situation.

   

I can’t tell you why I felt this huge sense of urgency to get this done, but all I know is I did not want the impersonal hanging over my head.  I wanted it behind me so I could put my energy towards what I needed to face more than anything, the absence of him and surrounding myself with comforting things that drew me close to him.  So what stage was that and was it right that it happened when it did?  I don’t care, it doesn’t matter, it’s what worked for me at the time.

"Saturday Night Widows" is about a group of women that come together after going through the abrupt loss of their husbands.  The idea came from one widow who attempted a few support groups and left each time more sad than she was before.  Her goal is to find a group of women who are in her shoes, look towards the positive, and decide to live.  These women push each other, work through their pain together and decide to venture out and seek adventure instead of complete pain.  Seeing how their lives have turned out so far together makes me smile.  It's a true testament of inner strength and beauty.  I have to say, I'm glad my mom gave me that book.

These women go to an art museum in New York city and come across a sculpture of a goddess named "Artemis."  After reading about her in this book, I did my own research on Artemis and I have to say, I find her fascinating.  I started thinking about the women in my life that are their own "Artemis."  Women that I find inspiring, women that carry their own torch, women that have worked through their own trials.  Some of these women have been monumental pillars of strength for me during this pain.  There are others that I've lost touch with, other's that simply can't be with me, yet a moment was shared between us that sparked something real in my heart and saved me.  I think of these moments often. 

My friend, Haven Livingston shared something with me a few weeks ago that I never thought of until she brought it to light.  When someone dies, it's important that we honor those that are gone.  But, even more importantly, we should honor the living.  We should honor those that are still here, those who still have to live, for truly living is not an easy task.  

To the women in my life who I believe carry their own torch;  regardless of how often we see or talk to each other, you have all been monumental pillars of strength for me at some point during this loss, and for that I will always be grateful to you.

My mother

My mother.  She has always been such an inspiration to me with her faith, her unconditional love, and leading by example.  She was on a plane within 2 hours of hearing of John's disappearance.  She stood right behind me with one hand on my shoulder while I said goodbye to John, putting all of her own pain aside.  I am proud to say I am my mother's daughter.  

My sisters

My two sisters, Lizzie and Bird.  There are no words to describe the strength these two women give me on a daily basis.  It's hard to believe I am older at times.  Their wisdom, words of encouragement and selflessness are truly inspiring.  They did everything for me for weeks after John died with no questions and have continued to put me before them since.  Both are incredible young women who inspire me everyday.  I could not get through this without my two sisters.

Meghan Magennis

Meghan is one of the most genuine women I have ever met.  She sends me hand crafted letters, helped me move into my new home in Fayetteville, and paddled right beside me my first time back on the Gauley river.  

Colleen Ciucci

Colleen was one of John's best friends and quickly became one of mine too after John introduced me to her.  John loved Colleen.  Colleen came to stay with me a few days at the beach when I arrived to the east coast from the hard move.  She was 8 months pregnant and already the mother of a 1 year old, yet she came to see me. Colleen is beautiful inside and out.

My mother-in-law, Susie Wilburn

At her own son's funeral, Susie took the time to tell me that I was the strongest person she knew, and that I was the perfect match for her son.  She made sure to tell me this while going through the loss of her own son, putting her own pain to the side to bring me a moment of comfort and strength.  I found that remarkable, and it is something I will never forget.

Paula Ogston-Nobile

Paula sent me one of the most beautiful letters I have ever read about a walk she took the day that John passed away and a feather that she found during this walk.  It was so thoughtful and touched my heart that I go back to read it from time to time.  Paula has always been an incredible friend.

Liz "Buzzy" Stockdale

Buzzy has been one of my best friends since we were 13 years old.  She would walk through fire for me.  Buzzy stayed with me during John's funeral in North Carolina.  Just having her presence and her strength near me was all I needed for those few days.  She has always put me before herself, and has always known just the right moment to make me laugh.  

Lily Christon-Arnold

Lily's kindness is infectious to those around her.  Lily wrote me a beautiful letter at John's funeral and gave me a stone that was given to her by another incredible young woman who suffered a similar loss.  Lily always sends me warm thoughts and continues to remind me that others are honoring John.  She has a heart of gold.

My sister-in-law, Belle Penaranda

Belle is my sister-in-law and my friend.  She is genuine and always makes an effort to put herself in my shoes when helping me through my own pain.  She has helped to ground me in moments of complete stress and always helps me see the big picture.  I am so glad she is married to John's brother.  She will always be my family.

John's grand mother (and mine too), Ellen Woodyard.

Ellen is an amazing woman.  There is not a week that goes by that she does not remind me that I am loved, prayed for and welcome in her home.  Ellen recently gave me a beautiful photo album that she put together of pictures of John from the time he was a baby until our wedding day.  She took the time to do this, putting aside her own pain so that I could have something beautiful.  John adored his grand mother, and so do I.

Brooks Whitten

Brooks gave up an entire week with her baby to help me drive across the country to the east coast and bring John home.  This was not an easy trip to make, yet she was there.  She has also given up multiple weekends and family time with her own husband so he could be a support to me in the loss of mine.  I am so thankful for that.

Antionette "Toni" Nichols

Toni is one of the most independent women I've had the pleasure of meeting.  She was my first friend in Southern Oregon.  She was also a part of John and I's first thanksgivings out of the retail world.  After John died, Toni made it so clear that she was here for me and stayed right by my side whenever I needed her.  She's an awesome friend.  

Jamie Hatcher

Jamie Hatcher may very well be "mom of the year."  She puts every personal need aside for her children, and I have always admired watching her with her girls.  There wasn't a day that passed that Jamie didn't check on me when I was living in Oregon.  She gave me a stone after John died with a beautiful note on how this stone has helped her.  I believe it is helping me too.  

Lisa Byers

Lisa Byers is one of the coolest girls I've ever met.  She is literally the female version of my husband.  It's why John loved hanging out with her.  Lisa was my best friend in Southern Oregon.  She was with me when they told me John was gone, she was with me when I got back into my kayak for the first time, and she's made her presence known in my life ever sense.  

Lori Tubes

Lori is one of the strongest women I know.  She was the only woman in the group of four that found my husband and she stayed completely strong while having to do something that I cannot imagine having to do.  Lori became one of my closest friends in Oregon after John died.  She has an energy about her that makes me smile and encourages me to chin up.  

Haven Livingston

Haven is beautiful.  She stayed with me for a week after I came back from the east coast just to make sure I had someone there, someone present.  She articulated John and I's marriage in a way that no one ever has, yet it was so spot on and she had only spent a short amount of time with us on the river.  She is kind, selfless, and an adventurist.  I admire her for so many reasons and am so grateful to call her my friend.

Mara Petretich

Mara represents the light at the end of a dark tunnel for me.  Mara befriended me when I moved to Fayetteville.  She lost her husband to a tragic kayaking accident as well.  She is a true inspiration to me because she embraced her pain, stayed so strong for her children, and found happiness again while continuing to honor her husband.  I think that is incredible.

Heather Warman

Heather also represents the light at the end of a dark tunnel for me.  Heather lost her husband to kayaking as well.  She has been able to say things to me that bring so much comfort because it is exactly how I feel.  She understands my pain and  has helped reassure me that I am still normal.  She continues to kayak and live life which I think is admirable.

Aunt Kristin

My Aunt Kristin lost her own child when he was 1 years old.  It was abrupt and tragic and horrible.  I did not realize the depth of her pain until going through my own abrupt loss.  It was then that I realized how strong she is and how deep her faith is.  I find Kristin inspiring.

Peyton Wilson

Peyton held my hand while I said goodbye to John.  She walked me into the chapel to see John and stayed strong when I could not.  Peyton continues to remind me that I am loved and prayed for.  She is beautiful and so full of love for others that you can feel it when you are around her.

Rachael Sandeen

Rachael reached out to me right after John died.  I took her up on this kind gesture and met her at a coffee shop in Grants Pass.  Having never met this woman, I immediately felt loved.  She cried with me having never met John or knowing us.  She was so genuine and her love for God was so strong it touched my heart.  Rachael continues to let me know that she is there for me.  She is truly a beautiful person inside and out.

Liz Arnold

I not only love Liz Arnold for her sense of humor and the friendship we've made since losing John.  I love her for the rock she has been for Melissa.   She is so encouraging, she's a leader and so respectful of both men.  

Emily Enochs

Emily has become my closest friend in Fayetteville.  We've hiked together, paddled together and cook many dinners together.  I don't think she realizes how much comfort she's brought me simply by her calm presence.  She is a woman of independence and is completely comfortable with herself.   I truly admire that and am so grateful for her friendship. 

Erin Board

Erin is another woman that befriended me right after I moved to Fayetteville.  She said something to me before taking her own adventure to Oregon that has always stuck with me, having never met John.  She told me that after meeting me, she felt strongly that God gave me to John because he needed me in his life, and I gave him something beautiful before he died.  It was one of the nicest things anyone has ever said to me.

Katie Key

Katie is one of my child hood friends.  She is now an awesome mother of two beautiful girls.  Katie has not only continued to be a good friend through this loss, but she's also shared her own personal story with me that gives me so much hope.  I know it can't be easy to revisit something so hard, yet she does in order to bring me comfort.  

My buddy, Sarah Fought.

                                   

Sarah is my family. My soul mate.  We've been buddies for over 10 years now and our friendship continues to grow stronger.  I always feel so loved by Sarah.  Her heart breaks for me.  There isn't a day that goes by that Sarah doesn't make her presence known.  She is a woman of so many strengths that people love being around her.  She is an incredible mother, wife, sister, best friend.  Sarah will be with me until I'm not here anymore.  The world needs more women like her.

Melissa Joyce

Melissa is a true example of complete sufficient grace and mercy.  She saved my life.  From the moment her husband died, she made it clear to me that she would put her faith first and set her eyes on what we can't see.  Pretty incredible.  She's my hero.

To all of you "Artemis" women, thank you for carrying the torch for me when I could not carry mine.  Whether it was a moment between us, or you've been here daily, you should know that it saved me.  I can only hope to do the same for you someday.  

Jared

"Though you have not seen him, you love him; and even though you do not see him now, you believe in him and are filled with inexpressible and glorious joy."  1 Peter 1:8

Jared Sandeen was one of John's first and closest friends in Southern Oregon.  The two met on one of John's favorite run's, Mill Creek located on the North Fork of the Rogue River in Oregon.  I remember John calling me that evening and telling me about his new friend Jared.  Not only was Jared a kayaker, but he was also a mountain biker, lived in Grants Pass, was really friendly and really laid back.  I could tell John liked Jared and wanted to get to know him more.  The two quickly became paddling and biking friends.  

The first time I met Jared was a chilly morning in October when John talked me into going with him, Jared and "the kids," (Jon and Hunter) to kayak the Upper Klamath river in Northern California.  Needless to say I did not make a great first impression on our new paddling friends and ended taking the roughest swim I've ever had down the longest and hardest rapid on the river leaving me with some epic bruises at the end of the day.  I developed what John called a "paddling block" after this swim and took some time off from paddling harder rivers to get my mental game back together.  John continued to paddle with Jared and Hunter on quite a few rivers, always returning with a smile on his face.

We spent time with Jared both on and off the trails and rivers, enjoying dinners together on a regular basis.  Jared is the reason I met my dear friend, Lisa Byers and found a female companion to help push me back into kayaking.  Jared always made John and I feel so welcome in Grants Pass, and in my opinion, made John's 6 month's in Southern Oregon so adventurous and fun.  The two of them were very much alike when it came to their need for the outdoors, adventures, and epic kayaking runs.  I am so glad John found Jared.

Jared Sandeen was John's last boating companion, the last voice he heard, and the last smile he saw before disappearing behind that boulder.  Jared was John's last person.  It's crazy the thoughts that run through your head when you are told that your husband is dead.  Thoughts that go beyond the gut wrenching reality that this is permanent and I have no choice in the matter.  I remember when they told me that John was gone, I thought of Jared.  I thought about the last 24 hours that we had been through from the time the two put on the river until that moment of this terrible reality, and my heart wept for Jared.  Jared was John's last person, and I knew in that moment that this would be a question that pondered Jared's heart into old age, "why?".  

I think about the 48 hours leading up to John's death.  How he canceled his plans all day saturday and spent the entire day with me, how he made a point to speak with his parents, how he played music, put together our reading room.  I remember that he somehow got cell service on the way to the Smith and had about 15 seconds to speak with Joseph Hatcher (another good friend in Oregon).  Where he got service, I've never seen anyone get service, yet he had 15 seconds.  Why was it Jared that was with him?  

Jared just spent a week on the east coast visiting me.  This was his first time to the east, and his first glimpse at the beautiful fall colors spreading all over the Appalachians.  Jared came to see me, meet and spend time with John's closest friends and adventure into the places that John loved.  He rode John's Santa Cruz mountain bike over multiple cross-country trails in West Virginia, kayaked the Upper Yough, the New and Gauley Rivers and hiked some beautiful trails throughout the state.  Jared spent a lot of time talking to me and John's friends about John's death, and a lot of time listening to us about who John was.  Jared and I also spent time each morning sharing scripture that speaks to us, and talked a lot about God's love and how he has moved us through this terrible loss.  We spent time crying together, but more importantly, laughing a lot together.  The thing that struck me the most about Jared's time on the east coast, is that he came here to listen and get to know my husband and who he was, what he meant to people, and how he lived.

As I drove back to Fayetteville after dropping Jared off at the airport, tears streamed down my face as I thought about what he had just done.  I thought to myself that that is admirable.  It is a genuine tribute to John and a testament of God's love for Jared and John.

People ask questions, all kinds of questions.  Do I blame Jared?  Am I angry with him for kayaking with John that day?  Is Jared reckless?   I only have one answer to all of these questions that people have asked me.  "No."  Jared is one of my heros and I love Jared for the friendship he gave John and for helping make his 6 months in Oregon one epic adventure.  

Jared could have disappeared, repressed what happened on March 9th and pushed everyone away.  I think many people would if this happened to them, and I can't say that I would blame them.  Jared was John's last person on March 9th.  March 10th, Jared had to rescue John and carry his body out of the gorge, and say good bye to his friend.  Jared has chosen just the opposite of forgetting what happened.  He continues to seek John even after he is gone and learn more and more about the man John was and those that loved him dearly.  He carries John's ashes down rivers, rides in the rain as a tribute to John, and has not left my side since those 24 hours of hell on March 9th.  

Jared walks with "the light" that I spoke about a few weeks ago.  I know it.  I can feel it whenever I am around him and it reminds me that John is OK.  

I will always love Jared not only for being John's friend, but for his bravery during those 24 hours, and for continuing to honor John and know who he was.  That to me is beautiful, and a true testament of God's love.  His smile is huge and the light he carries in him is infectious.   Thank you Jared for loving John and for being his last person. What a great reunion you two will have one day, where your adventures together will continue.

-

The Light

"The light shines in the darkness, but the darkness has not understood it."  John 1:5

I mentioned before that I think a lot about where John is now and what his purpose is.  

I am reading a book right now called "Flight to Heaven," written by a man named Captain Dale Black.  The book is about a pilot that goes down in a terrible plane crash and ends up being the only survivor of three individuals.  During his time in the ER, Dale finds himself suspended above the operating room and watching the medical team examine him, totally detached from his body.  He experiences what he believes to be a glimpse at the after life.  There is a chapter in the book called "Celestial Perfection," that I have read quite a few times.   I read a few paragraphs to my dear friend Melissa while she was visiting and had a hard time getting through them without crying because I think Dale's experience is incredible, and all I can do when I read this is picture John.  I thought I would share.

"The flowers in heaven fascinated me.  Again, a delightful and delicate balance between diversity and unity.  Each was unique.  All were one, and they were beautiful to behold.  Each petal and leaf illuminated with that glorious light and added just the right splashes of color to the velvety expanse of green grass.  The grass, the sky, the walls, the houses, everything was more beautiful than I ever dreamed anything could be.  Even the colors.  They were richer, deeper, more luminescent than any colors I have ever seen in the farthest reaches of earth or in the most fantastic of dreams.  They were so vibrant they pulsated with life.  Each and every color, no matter how varied, took its color from the glistening whiteness that permeated heaven.  If millions of jewels had been gathered into one place and the brightest sunlight shone through them, it wouldn't begin to describe the colors I saw.  Heaven was filled with a rainbow of hues and provided me with a sensory feast.  

My eyes were next drawn to a river that stretched from the gathering area in the middle of the city to the wall.  It flowed toward the wall and seemed to end there.  The river was perfectly clear with a bluish-white hue.  The light didn't shine on the water but mysteriously shone within it somehow.  The entrance through the thick wall was breath taking.  The opening seemed filled with light that was the purest of white, yet it seemed to have countless hues that changed with even my slightest movement.  I was filled with excited anticipation of entering that beautiful gate.  I was immersed in music, in light, and in love.  

No one was recognized by the physical or social distinctions that we recognize on earth.  All were recognized by their spirit, the essence of who they were.  Everyone and everything was full of pure life and was connected to the light somehow, and everything that was connected led to God.  Part of the joy I was experiencing was not only the presence of everything wonderful but the absence of everything terrible.  There was no strife, no competition, no betrayal, no deception, no lies no murders, no unfaithfulness, no disloyalty, nothing contrary to the light and life and love.    

Vibrant life permeated everything.  All these weren't just around me, they were inside me.  And it was wonderful, more wonderful than anything I had ever experienced.  It felt as if I belonged there.  I didn't want to leave.  Ever.  It was as if this was the place I had been searching all my life to find, and now I'd found it.  The best unity I have ever felt on earth did not compare with the exhilarating oneness that I experienced with my spiritual family in heaven.  This love...God's love, was transforming.  To experience something so sacred, so profound as the boundless love of God was the most thrilling part of heaven.  It satisfied a longing in the deepest part of me.  I felt so special, you can't believe how special.  After all, all this was for me.  Everyone was there for me. 

 I had no idea what gift I was about to receive, but the anticipation on the faces of the people let me know that it was something extraordinary.   I felt like a kid again, like that fifth-grade kid who loved God.  Like that kid who used to look forward to Christmas like you wouldn't believe.  I couldn't wait to open the gifts that waited for me under the tree.  And I couldn't wait for the gift that waited for me now.  The music continued, such beautiful music, and I became even more excited.  It swelled and with it so did my anticipation."   Captain Dale Black

I believe this is a beautiful testimony to what awaits us after this life.  I believe that John has an understanding of the universe that I can't even begin to comprehend while I am here, I can only believe it to be true.  I've been asked a lot of questions about  my beliefs since losing John.  Am I a christian?  Does the God I worship condemn people to burn in hell?  Is the bible to be believed word for word?  I've had people even go as far as asking me if John accepted Jesus Christ before he died.  

Here is what I believe.  

I believe that John showed me unconditional love and faithfulness every day that we were together.  I felt radiated in love when I was with him.  I believe that John had a much better understanding of what life is about than I did.  This is why he wasn't attached to meaningless things and why taking advantage of every moment given to him was so important.  I believe that the experience of hell is merely earth itself.  Hate, greed, abandonment, sadness, sickness, loss, rage, pain.  We see this everyday.  Just watch the news for 5 minutes.  I believe that those moments of joy and happiness that we do find here on earth are a small glimpse of what is to come.  I believe that God showed his love to me through John everyday that we were together.  Most importantly, I believe that God loves John dearly.

Here on earth, I go to the woods to find John.  I look for him among the trees that create a safe haven for me as I walk and bike the trails, and the rays of sunlight that beam through the branches and warm my skin.  I seek answers when I am there, a better understanding, a deeper meditation where I can tap into him and pour out my heart to God.  In those silent walks and rides, I listen for him and search for that light.  I always leave the woods more calm, more at peace, with a better appreciation and respect for my creator, grateful for our time together among the trees.    

At the end of my life, I hope to tell God about what I've done with my life, and how I have loved.   To me, that is all that matters.  I know John had incredible answers to both of these questions, better answers than I do.   I believe that all religions or non-religions are important because each belief gives us teaching, guidance and a focus on living a purposeful life.  We all have the ability to love ourselves and give love to others .  To me, that is where the God I love can be found and where I can feel John.  

I believe this light that Dale Black talks about is within all of us and at the center of that light is unconditional love.  I think of John now completely beaming in this light with a huge smile and complete understanding.  John always wanted to live in places where he felt inspired everyday by the nature that surrounded him.  It makes me smile to think of the inspiration he must feel now, and the hope that I'll get to experience this with him someday.  

If what Dale Black experienced is true and I believe it to be, I can only look forward to this next life with anticipation and excitement.  I believe we all can.  For now though, I hope to find those small glimpses of heaven here on earth, reminding me of what is to come.

It Matters

"Death is nothing else but going home to God, the bond of love will be unbroken for all eternity."  Mother Teresa

It has been 2 ½ months since I left John and I’s home in Southern Oregon.   I started my new job on July 14^th and have been pretty busy ever since.  I am really grateful for the new job and to the leaders that hired me.  It has been challenging and keeps me really busy.  I work in Human Resources so a lot of time is spent helping and developing others.  I am finding that when I have to help others, it allows me to take the focus away from my new world, and for that, I am grateful.

Fayetteville, WV has been a blessing as well.  Fayetteville is a friendly small town, with a population of around 3000 people, nestled in the heart of the New River Gorge and the Gauley River.  I’ve never made friends anywhere as quickly as I have in Fayetteville.  When I am not at work, I spend a lot of time hiking or riding the trails with Jake.  When I want to talk to John, I go to the woods.  John and I spent a lot of time in West Virginia kayaking the New and Gauley rivers.  We loved this part of the country and always felt happy to spend a weekend here.  Now it is my new home.  This past weekend was the first Gauley weekend release.   Some of John and I’s closest friends came up for the weekend to kayak and support me through that mile stone.  I felt the tears well as I pushed off the river bank into the foggy river and hit the first wave train.  Once I made it down to a unique rapid called “Koontz Flume,” I decided to start singing through each wave hit the way John did when he spent time on the river.  It was amazing how much my surroundings seemed to change when this happened.  It was as if John was right beside me, guiding me through each rapid.  I started to smile by the time I got to “Canyon Doors,” looked up at the sky and blew my love a kiss, thanking him for reminding me that yes, kayaking is fun, and he is here through each line.  It was a good day on the river.

I often look up during the busyness of the day and wonder, how did I get here?  What happened to my beautiful life?   The homesickness I feel for my husband is beyond anything I could have imagined.  I can remember when John was in graduate school and I was working in Richmond.  We did that for two years.  I remember the way it felt when I wouldn’t see him for a couple weeks.  When we moved to Oregon, John and I spent a month apart so I could wrap up my current job and finalize our house selling plans.  That was excruciating. We spent time on google chat every night just so we could see each other’s faces, and Jakes of course.  I remember aching for him then while knowing I would see him soon.  There are no words to describe how this feels now.   I don’t know if there is a word worthy of describing it.  I was folding laundry in my basement on Monday before driving to Charlotte and looked up at a jacket of John’s that I hung up on the clothes line when I moved in so it would not get wrinkled.  I thought about how he wore that very jacket only 6 months ago and how handsome he looked in it.  I dropped to my knees in that moment of realization and felt my chest getting tighter, my vision get blurry, and my breathing increase.  He’ll never wear that jacket again, because he is no longer physically here and there is NOTHING I can do about it.  This reality makes me panic at times.  It is a hopeless feeling, and when I really allow myself to think about the reality of that situation, I can’t breathe.  This is a reality that I’ve realized is not going away.  While it does not define me, it truly is a part of me, and I have to figure out who I am supposed to be now with this loss.  The old me is gone, I said goodbye to her when I said goodbye to John.  So who am I?  These are questions that have come to light since moving back east, questions that may take a while to figure out, yet they must be answered.

There has been a lot of change in my life this year.  My parents recently divorced, my sister and brother in-law followed their dreams and opened up an art studio, I moved to the West Coast, I moved to the East Coast, my brother wrote his first book, I met Melissa Joyce (she saves me daily),  I switched jobs twice, I started playing music again, my family has come together, my family has fallen apart,  my husband died, my husband died, my husband died, my husband died.  Yet, people continue to live their lives, experience happiness, accomplish goals, they live.  I have to admit, I found this offensive at first.  Why is anyone going on?  John is gone, therefore my world has stopped.  Why has the entire world not stopped?  Home is where John is, so where is my home?   Happiness, love, laughter, personal goals, life.  All of these things for me lead to John, yet I have no way of getting to him while I’m here.  I can’t call him, see him, touch him, hear him.  I never will while I am here, and the feeling this brings to my heart, I have no words for.  Yet life continues, some days in zombie mode, but it continues, and what choice do we have?  What choice does anyone have?  Of course, the world continues onward and people left behind must keep moving. 

I have been thinking a lot about death lately.   From the moment I was told John was dead, I began to think about his new life and what this must be like for him.  I picture him the moment I wake up and I pray for dreams of him to come when I sleep.  I found and gave my life over to God when I was a senior in college and have felt his love ever sense.  I admit, my faith was questioned at the moment of John’s death and at the pain this caused not just me but his family and friends.  Watching what John's death has done to those that love him brings me to my knees at times.  But, through this incredible pain, I know God is present and I believe John is present.   

 I read a lot about those that have had near death experiences and I find their testimonies to be incredible.  There are hundreds of individuals throughout this world that have experienced what I think is a glimpse at the afterlife, and it blows my mind how similar these experiences are.   The most incredible similarity I have found in these readings, is that not one individual that went through this wanted to come back.  Some are actually upset when they realize they are back.  Many say that during this experience, the love they felt and the beauty they saw is beyond words.  There is nothing on earth that can come close to even comparing to it.  They didn’t want to come back.  I picture this perfection for John every day.  John’s grandmother called me the other day and told me that when she sees a beautiful mountain or river, it makes her sad to know that John isn’t here to see it.  I told her that what John see’s now I believe is magnificent and I know he can’t wait to show her.  It's more beautiful than any river or mountain we have ever seen.

What John’s grandmother and I feel sad for is the fact that we can’t have John physically here with us, standing beside us in those moments of complete beauty.  I am not sad for where he is and what I believe he is experiencing, I have a feeling he can’t wait to show me.  I don’t think any of us fully understand what comes next until our time comes.   

“Faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen.”  Hebrews 11:1

No matter how unbearable this pain feels at times, and no matter how desperately I want to see John right now, I really do believe in the evidence of things not seen.  There have been too many moments where I felt him, and continue to feel the love of God.   I think of our reunion everyday, the substance of things hoped for.

So through the winds of change, we must continue to breathe, move and live.  For what choice do we have while we are here?  To me, making that choice every morning puts my faith into action, and it honors my husband John.   What we do here matters. 

Our Love and White Water

I remember when it happened.  That moment when I realized, I am a kayaker.  The first time I paddled out into the currents of the James River in Richmond, Virginia, I had countless feelings.  Excited, terrified, wobbly, inexperienced, happy, alive.  I was new to the sport and had no idea what the world of white water had to offer me and the paths I would cross during my time in the current. While there were so many unknowns, one thing was certain, I wanted to know this sport and become one with it. 

It reminds me of how I felt when I saw John Wilburn.  I remember the first time I locked eyes with him.  The sounds of the band around me seemed to fade.  Others became foggy as he shook my hand and looked down at me with those warm blue eyes.  The next day, there we were, side by side kayaking down the James River. 

I remember when it happened, the moment.  It's when I decided to follow John down the James River.  I tried to mimic his graceful lines as best as I could and trust his movements.  It was then that I became a kayaker, and the incredible adventure of paddling beside him began. 

I had been kayaking with John for almost 6 1/2 years.  He was my husband, my best friend, my boating companion, and the most graceful kayaker I've had the pleasure to watch and learn from.  Our mutual love for paddling and each other took us to beautiful rivers all over the country.  We found ourselves side by side exploring rivers in Virginia, West Virginia, North Carolina, Pennsylvania, Maryland, Tennessee, Colorado, Washington, Oregon and finally, Northern California. 

Once we witnessed the rolling green mountains of Southern Oregon, it was over.  We knew we had to live there, and so in August of 2013, we packed up our lives and ventured out west hand in hand.  Words cannot describe the beauty we witnessed out there.  Crystal clear rivers, cascading water falls, lush green forest, everyday we felt inspired.

On John's last day with me, he looked at me right before the last 50 yards towards the river and said, "I'll see you soon muffin."  I'll never forget the smile on his face and the excitement he had for what was to come.  John was happy that day, excited for another adventure, he was a kayaker. 

As we approach the first Gauley release next weekend, I want to share his story with you, and his complete love for the adventures of white water kayaking.  His story is so important, and his way of living is something I think we can all take with us.  We'll be better because of John.  I want you to see the river from John's eyes, experience the lines from his movements, and feel his excitement and appreciation for the beauty that surrounds him in every rapid.  I hope you take John's love with you on the river this Gauley season and everywhere.  I hope you feel him every time you push off into the current and remember him.  Just look around and see the beauty you are surrounded by, he is there.

In Memory of John Duncan Wilburn

http://vimeo.com/104943083



 

We Need to Travel

 

 

"We need to travel.  If we don't offer ourselves to the unknown, our senses dull.  Our world becomes small and we lose our sense of wonder.  Our eyes don't lift to the horizon, our ears don't hear the sounds around us.  The edge is off our experience and we pass out days in a routine that is both comfortable and limiting.  We wake up one day and find that we have lost our dreams in order to protect our days.  Don't let yourself become one of these people.  The fear of the unknown and the lure of the comfortable will conspire to keep you from taking the chances the traveler has to take.  But if you take them, you never regret your choice.  To be sure, there will be moments of doubt when you stand alone on an empty road in an icy rain, or when you are ill with fever in a rented bed.  But as the pains of the moment will come, so too will they fall away.  In the end, you will be so much stronger, so much clearer, so much happier, and so much better a person that all the risk and hardship will seem like nothing compared to the knowledge you have gained."  Kent Nerbum

 
I made a decision a few months ago that I wanted to share with you this evening.  I received John's ashes a few weeks after he passed away.  I had to travel to Crescent City, CA to get them.  For a while, he sat in our reading room on top of a book shelf gazing out at the mountains that surrounded our home.  I spent every evening sitting in that reading room with him, sometimes in conversation, sometimes in silence, sometimes simply reading.  I would place my hands on the box before I would head to work everyday and tell John how much I loved him.  I wasn't sure when I would open that box, and how long it would take me to spread him.  Everyday though, my heart felt heavy when leaving him there.  It just didn't seem right and really was not a reflection of how he lived.  "Idle" was not a part of John's vocabulary.
 
I don't know when it hit me, that is, the right thing to do for John.  I believe it was one evening while lying in bed gazing into the dark, restless as usual.  John was a traveler, an explorer, an adventurist.  In his 30 years here on earth, he spent more time adventuring into the mountains and rivers, and discovering beautiful places all over the country than most people do in a life time.  He loved nothing more than going into wilderness areas by foot, boat, bike, or motorcycle when we lived in Oregon and discovering the unknown.  I always admired this about him, his inability to stay idle, his constant need for discovery and adventure.  John was present.  He was in tune. 
 
So when it came to John's ashes, I thought, what better way to honor him than to ensure his adventure continues.  I gave part of John to about 25 of our closest friends and many of our family members.  I asked two things of them when giving each individual John's ashes.  I asked each person to take him to a place that is beautiful and that he loved, or adventure somewhere that he has never been and give him something new and beautiful to see.  Here is just a glimpse at what my husband now sees.

Sawtooth Mountains, Stanley Idaho (Lisa Byers)

 



 John's Creek Bank, Narrows VA (Rusty Wilburn)

 

Bonners Ferry, Idaho (Lisa Byers)

 

Reids Falls, Skagway Alaska, (Anna Johnson)

 

Cloudland Canyon, GA (Joren Dunnavant)

 

Bolt Mountain, Grants Pass, OR (Jared Sandeen)

 

To Yosemite for a backpacking trip, (Matt Brinckman)

 

Meneka Peak, Virginia (Herb Wilburn)

 

 

 

Big Horn Mountains, Wyoming, (Erin Wilburn)

 

Brookings, Oregon Coast (Erin Wilburn)

Smith River, California (Erin Wilburn)

 

This is just the beginning.  John has so many more places he will go.  He is meant to travel.  I am honored to have my family and dear friends that are partaking in releasing John with me, helping me to honor him and the incredible adventurist that he was. 

 

July 28th

"If I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, but do not have love, I have become a ringing brass gong or a clashing cymbal. And if I have the gift of prophecy and I know all mysteries and all knowledge, and if I have all faith so that I can remove mountains, but do not have love, I am nothing. And if I parcel out all my possessions, and if I hand over my body in order that I will be burned, but do not have love, it benefits me nothing." 

1 Corinthians 13:1-2

 

 

This may be the hardest blog entry I'll ever have to write.  Today is Sunday, July 27, 2014.  Tomorrow would have been my two year anniversary with John.  I'm sitting in my living room while it thunders and rains outside.  This last week has been strange.  I think my body is physically reacting to what tomorrow brings.  Yesterday I went mountain biking with some friends and had what I think was a panic attack after a long climb.  I got off my bike, stepped off the trail and hugged a tree for about 5 minutes.  Jake just sat there with me while I cried and yes, hugged a tree.  I hung out at our friend Nick's caboose last night.  An incredible place that John and I spent many weekends during Gauley season.  We stood by the fire after dinner with some beers and gazed up at the stars.  I remember looking into this fire and having visions of John's body being cremated.  I could feel my heart rate increasing and my knees go wobbly.  My thoughts are terrible sometimes, especially this past week.   My head hurts, my chest feels tight, I feel anxious, and my pace feels slow. 

 

I feel confident saying that John and I had one of the most fun weddings anyone has been to.  We we're married in my parents front yard and had quite the party in their back yard.  There were maybe 40 people at the ceremony and 60 at the party afterwards.  John took all of his friends and my brothers mountain biking the day of the wedding, illegally I might add.  One of my best friends was visiting this past weekend and told me that when they got to the trail head, John announced, "OK guys, everyone grab their bikes and run to the trail!  We are not supposed to be riding on this at all!"  Shocker that my husband would do this:)  Apparently my brother in-law had the best wreck of the ride.  He came around a turn with both feet off the pedals and launched into a bush.  Still, every guy on that ride remembers that wreck and still laughs about it.  I think Luke laughed about it once the bruises faded.  They all made it back to the house one hour before the wedding ceremony.  What did John do when he got back to the house, oh you know, the normal thing, jump in the pool and crack open a beer!  My mom had to go out there about 30 minutes before the wedding and tell John he may want to go get changed since guest are starting to arrive.  John had the normally even keeled reply:  "OK:)"  No rush at all! 

 

Did I also mention that John and my uncle came over to my parents house around 6am the morning of our wedding and chain sawed a tree down in the back yard?  You know my mom LOVED that.  I remember watching her charge outside in her "cat and the hat" bath robe.  Amazing.  My uncle gave John a chainsaw for a wedding gift.  I think John pretty much attempted to take that chainsaw with him everywhere afterwards. 

 

John and I ended up in the pool about an hour after we were married.  Seriously.  I think I wore my wedding dress for the most 2 1/2 hours?  Before we knew it, everyone ended up in the pool, some with clothes on and some in bathing suits.  My dad even gave the toast from the pool.  John and I laid on pool recliners holding hands and listening to the Jazz Trio from Brevard, NC all night until it was time to go. 

 

We spent the next two weeks camping, mountain biking, kayaking, hiking and exploring British Columbia and Washington State.  I had no idea that a year later we'd be moving out west to pursue our life together full of adventure and unconditional love.

 

I absolutely loved being married.  To me, there is nothing more beautiful.  John became my family on July 28, 2012.  We had been together for 4 1/2 years at that point when we made that commitment to each other in front of our family and closest friends.  We had even been living together for 2 years before getting married.  Something changed after that day though, and I don't know if I can quite explain it.  I really believe that when you make that commitment to each other with God at the center of that connection, something electric happens.  Your souls are intertwined and you become one.  There was no one in this world that knew me better than my husband.  He knew every fear, every dream, every need.  He knew when I was happy, and when I was in pain.  He knew all my curves, birth marks, facial expressions, movements.  He knew me to my core and lived within my soul.

 

We had an incredible marriage.  I can count the number of arguments we had in the 6+ years we were together on one hand.  Most of our time was spent in laughter and adventure.  He was my best friend and I loved spending every minute with him.  I know that I had something rare, and hard to come by.  I found and married my perfect match.  He took my breath away the moment I shook his hand for the first time, and he took my breath away again when I held his hands and gazed at his beautiful face after he was gone. 

 

 A new friend invited me to this get together this past week in Fayetteville called “Poetry, Prose & Plainsong.”  This is a group of locals that get together every other week and read or sing to each other. I hesitated to go as I do with most social events these days, but I thought what the hell and decided to go. Throughout the evening I was truly blown away by the talent in the room and the quality poetry that was shared.   A man that goes by “Doc” shared a poem titled “Rose.”  The poem was about a widow who goes to her husband’s grave to lay some roses.  She weeps at his grave and tells him how deeply she misses him and how she cannot live without him.  As she turns away, her husband appears to her and they embrace one last time.  He begs her not to kill herself, for he is waiting for her and still deeply loves her.  He tells her to hold on to his words for he loves her and will see her again one day. 

 

Tears welled as I listened to his words. I could feel his pain and thought about months back when I wanted nothing more than to die.  Death seemed like a great alternative verses being forced to walk this earth without my love and our marriage.   I took Jake for a hike after work this past week and as I walked in silence in the woods, I thought to myself, “I am hollow all day and all night.”  It’s an odd way to describe it, but I am.   I believe part of me left this world when John left, and now, I do not know my purpose or myself in this world for my family is gone.  I go to work every morning, I meet new people and force myself to smile and converse.  I force myself to get up every morning and walk through another day, yet I am hollow inside and the deep ache I feel in my heart just won’t lighten up.  It is there all day and all night, and rears its ugly head at any moment when I am not prepared causing me to have complete melt downs in the oddest places which scares me at times.  I am unpredictable and a flake these days. 

I wondered about Doc and if he lost his wife.  I pictured myself decades from now.  I pictured myself as an old woman.  Will I be writing poetry about my husband, continuing to long for the day where we will see each other again?  Moving on terrifies me.  Opening my heart again terrifies me.  I don't know how it's even possible that anyone could be more perfect for me than John.   I walk into my empty home every evening and expect to hear his voice yelling “muffin!” as he always did, listen to the sounds of cooking in the kitchen, the guitar playing in the music room, tools clanking in the basement on a bike.  I lie in bed alone every night in the very spot that he used to lay, hoping to still smell him against our sheets.  I wear his wedding band around my neck, with my wedding band inside of his everyday, holding it around my thumb when my grounding feels unstable.  I come home to silence, just me and our animals and things left that were his.  I am a hollow shell, constantly haunted by material memories.  Yet this is comfortable for me right now, it is safe.  I can stay here with him, for now.

Tomorrow is a mile stone.  It's the day that I chose John, it's the day I chose my family, it's the day I began my life, a beautiful life.  If God appeared to me and said, "Erin, I can take all of your pain away, your broken heart, your loneliness, your rage and hurt; yet it would mean that you never met John, that your life turned out different."  My answer to God would simply be, "no".  I am so thankful to God for bringing John into my life and allowing the two of us to experience complete unconditional, beautiful love.  I am a different person, a better person because of it.  Our love rocked my world.  Our love is eternal and will be there deep in my heart until we meet again.  Our souls are intertwined, and part of John lives within me now.  I feel him everyday deep in my heart, guiding me. 

So tomorrow isn't going to be sad.  I won't stay home and cry and scream and ask God why?  Tomorrow is a celebration of our love, and I will honor us by stepping out into the sunlight, hiking the mountains, kayaking the rivers, mountain biking the trails, into old age, with John right beside of me, guiding me every step of the way.

 

 

Happy anniversary muffin.  My beautiful husband, my best friend.  I love you always and forever.

 

Love,

Your Muffin.