I was going to go to the temple one Saturday. See, about a month before Cory passed, the Oakland temple closed for at least a year. So getting to the temple isn't as easy as it used to be. I planned to go to the Fresno temple while visiting friends a couple of weeks ago. But it was closed for it's two-week cleaning. Then I tried to go with a friend to the Sacramento temple but traffic made it so that we didn't make the session.
I needed to go to the temple. But this would be my first time back to the temple since he died and I had all kinds of feelings about it. When it came down to it, I couldn't make myself get out of bed. I also needed to prepare a Sunday School lesson for my class, practice my song that I would be singing in Sacrament meeting, fold and put away my laundry, clean and vacuum my home, and I needed to eat something...because it was nearly 1:00 in the afternoon. But I just kept thinking, if I get out of bed, what I really should do is go to the temple because it's been nearly 2 months since I've been to the temple and for someone who went at least twice a week, that is a very, VERY long time. But I couldn't get myself to go for some reason.
I texted my friend who was in Texas attending a wedding. I told her all of the above and told her to call me a lazy bum and get myself out of bed and doing something.
In her ever compassionate and wise way, her response was, "If you're going to do something, you should go for a hike. Seriously. Get out there and enjoy nature!"
I took her advice. I packed up my day pack with a few snacks, made sure I had my headlamp, filled my water bladder, put on my tennis shoes and walked out the door. I decided I wanted to go somewhere I've never been before. I planned to go to the redwood area near the Oakland temple. I also decided to go the back way, through Tilden Reserve because it's a beautiful drive.
As I was driving by the Briones Reservoir, I suddenly decided to go there instead. I pulled into the staging area for the Bear Creek Trail. I got online and bought a permit, grabbed my pack, and started for the trail. The map on AllTrails said it was about a 12-mile hike. I knew I was starting out quite late and would have to keep a steady pace in order to get through the entire hike before the sun went down. I started out at a pace I felt I could maintain and began a beautiful hike that lovely day.
The hills were green and lush. It was a gorgeous day. My heart began to lift as I walked. It felt good to be there and to enjoy an area I’d not seen before. As I hiked, I found myself alternately in awe of the world around me, and weeping at the world within me. There seemed to be constant thoughts which kept my mind returning over and over to Cory.
I hiked for several hours. At one point, I felt unsure I was still on the path and began to panic a little. I texted my location to a friend and the direction I was hiking. I told her that if she didn’t hear from me by 9:00 pm, that she should worry and send help. Then my signal was lost again. But I felt reassured by that moment of signal and that I was able to get the message out to my friend.
After 11 miles, the gps said I still had about 1/3 of the hike to go and I began to worry. I knew I could keep up that pace a little longer, but I had set my pace for 12 miles, not 16.
And then the trail disappeared. I found myself following the power lines and then I was on a road. A paved road. I knew that wasn’t right, but at least there were a couple of houses around. I still didn’t have cell service. So I decided I needed to knock on a door and ask to borrow a phone.
I past four or five homes down a half-mile stretch of the road before I gave up on getting reception and then I chose a house. I felt very uncomfortable. It was hard to go knock on a stranger’s door and ask for help. But I was in need at this point. My water had long-since been drunk. I’d hiked nearly 14 miles. And my legs felt like jello.
There was an older woman in the yard with a young toddler. I asked if she had a phone I could borrow to call a friend for a ride. She lent me her phone and then we waited for my friend to pack up her nieces and nephews (5 of them, she was babysitting) and come and rescue me. Talk about a good friend!
As this woman and I talked, she asked me what I was doing out hiking so late. I guess because I didn’t know her it felt easier to admit my stupidity. So I told her the whole story - my divorce, his getting sick and dying. Me not knowing how to feel or what to do or what to think. Needing to get out of bed and do something. The spur of the moment decision to hike the reservoir. When I finished, she said to me with tears in her own eyes, “I understand that. I go walking there to cry and just get things out sometimes too. I know people say ‘oh, my mom died. I know just how you feel.’ Or ‘I had a brother die. I know what you’re going through.’ But they don’t. Nothing on this earth feels like your spouse dying. Nothing. My husband died almost two years ago. I understand why you were hiking today.”
Then we just sat there, watching her grandson play and tears streaming down our cheeks silently.
My friend eventually arrived and took me to my car.
That night, after a good shower and a lovely dinner, I knelt next to my bed and thanked God for the three women he sent to influence my day that day. I thanked him for the woman, whose name I never did learn, who sheltered my aching heart with her own for an hour or so. Who shared with me that which no one else could share because no one else I knew understood. I thanked Him for Christy who came to my rescue and tenderly cared for me without chiding or expressing that I should have thought things through better. And I thanked Him for Katie who told me to get out of my house and to let the creations of God heal my soul.
And I thanked God.
It felt good to find gratitude in my heart, amidst all the ache and turmoil. More than anything else, with all the other blessings of that day, the greatest blessing of all was to feel gratitude.
I needed to go to the temple. But this would be my first time back to the temple since he died and I had all kinds of feelings about it. When it came down to it, I couldn't make myself get out of bed. I also needed to prepare a Sunday School lesson for my class, practice my song that I would be singing in Sacrament meeting, fold and put away my laundry, clean and vacuum my home, and I needed to eat something...because it was nearly 1:00 in the afternoon. But I just kept thinking, if I get out of bed, what I really should do is go to the temple because it's been nearly 2 months since I've been to the temple and for someone who went at least twice a week, that is a very, VERY long time. But I couldn't get myself to go for some reason.
I texted my friend who was in Texas attending a wedding. I told her all of the above and told her to call me a lazy bum and get myself out of bed and doing something.
In her ever compassionate and wise way, her response was, "If you're going to do something, you should go for a hike. Seriously. Get out there and enjoy nature!"
I took her advice. I packed up my day pack with a few snacks, made sure I had my headlamp, filled my water bladder, put on my tennis shoes and walked out the door. I decided I wanted to go somewhere I've never been before. I planned to go to the redwood area near the Oakland temple. I also decided to go the back way, through Tilden Reserve because it's a beautiful drive.
As I was driving by the Briones Reservoir, I suddenly decided to go there instead. I pulled into the staging area for the Bear Creek Trail. I got online and bought a permit, grabbed my pack, and started for the trail. The map on AllTrails said it was about a 12-mile hike. I knew I was starting out quite late and would have to keep a steady pace in order to get through the entire hike before the sun went down. I started out at a pace I felt I could maintain and began a beautiful hike that lovely day.
The hills were green and lush. It was a gorgeous day. My heart began to lift as I walked. It felt good to be there and to enjoy an area I’d not seen before. As I hiked, I found myself alternately in awe of the world around me, and weeping at the world within me. There seemed to be constant thoughts which kept my mind returning over and over to Cory.
I hiked for several hours. At one point, I felt unsure I was still on the path and began to panic a little. I texted my location to a friend and the direction I was hiking. I told her that if she didn’t hear from me by 9:00 pm, that she should worry and send help. Then my signal was lost again. But I felt reassured by that moment of signal and that I was able to get the message out to my friend.
After 11 miles, the gps said I still had about 1/3 of the hike to go and I began to worry. I knew I could keep up that pace a little longer, but I had set my pace for 12 miles, not 16.
And then the trail disappeared. I found myself following the power lines and then I was on a road. A paved road. I knew that wasn’t right, but at least there were a couple of houses around. I still didn’t have cell service. So I decided I needed to knock on a door and ask to borrow a phone.
I past four or five homes down a half-mile stretch of the road before I gave up on getting reception and then I chose a house. I felt very uncomfortable. It was hard to go knock on a stranger’s door and ask for help. But I was in need at this point. My water had long-since been drunk. I’d hiked nearly 14 miles. And my legs felt like jello.
There was an older woman in the yard with a young toddler. I asked if she had a phone I could borrow to call a friend for a ride. She lent me her phone and then we waited for my friend to pack up her nieces and nephews (5 of them, she was babysitting) and come and rescue me. Talk about a good friend!
As this woman and I talked, she asked me what I was doing out hiking so late. I guess because I didn’t know her it felt easier to admit my stupidity. So I told her the whole story - my divorce, his getting sick and dying. Me not knowing how to feel or what to do or what to think. Needing to get out of bed and do something. The spur of the moment decision to hike the reservoir. When I finished, she said to me with tears in her own eyes, “I understand that. I go walking there to cry and just get things out sometimes too. I know people say ‘oh, my mom died. I know just how you feel.’ Or ‘I had a brother die. I know what you’re going through.’ But they don’t. Nothing on this earth feels like your spouse dying. Nothing. My husband died almost two years ago. I understand why you were hiking today.”
Then we just sat there, watching her grandson play and tears streaming down our cheeks silently.
My friend eventually arrived and took me to my car.
That night, after a good shower and a lovely dinner, I knelt next to my bed and thanked God for the three women he sent to influence my day that day. I thanked him for the woman, whose name I never did learn, who sheltered my aching heart with her own for an hour or so. Who shared with me that which no one else could share because no one else I knew understood. I thanked Him for Christy who came to my rescue and tenderly cared for me without chiding or expressing that I should have thought things through better. And I thanked Him for Katie who told me to get out of my house and to let the creations of God heal my soul.
And I thanked God.
It felt good to find gratitude in my heart, amidst all the ache and turmoil. More than anything else, with all the other blessings of that day, the greatest blessing of all was to feel gratitude.
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