The Grand Canyon of Grief

Tuesday of the Arizona vacation was the Grand Canyon.  I was so excited to share it with Scott.  He had never been.  I kind of thought that seeing the Grand Canyon as a kid was a parenting requirement.  When I was a kid my Mom and Stepdad took us.  I refer to that as the trip from hell.  The way we travelled was pretty special.  My stepdad is a pilot.  Some rent RVs and travel to the G.C., nope ours flew in a banana yellow, four seater antique plane called a Balanca (spelling?).  It had Beige Velour seats.  I remember a stop in Reno.  I remember camping in a tent at an airfield.  (it was freezing)  But the worse part was being stuck in the backseat of this small plane with my baby brother.  Remember, no iPhones, video games, no music, no earbuds. We didn’t even have walkmans yet.  Just me and my 3-4 year old brother.  You can’t just pull over when the little one needs a break.  At one of our stops, my mom did the brilliant move of feeding him a tuna fish sandwich.  The temperature in the plane was not an even cabin controlled temperature.  This leg it happened to be quite warm in that back seat and we had some turbulence.  Yes, you got it.  Kevin puked Tuna Fish all over me and the back seat (velour).  I can still smell it to this day.  It was one of those memories that was branded into my brain.  The second memory was how absolutely stunning the Grand Canyon was.  How small I felt.  How lucky I was to see it from a plane.  To see a perspective that not many kids saw.  It was fantastic.  But then we had to fly back.  I do believe I am not a fan of Tuna because of that trip.

My cousin and I drove from Vegas and took our three kids several years ago.  We had reserved two nights at a local hotel.  We really thought you needed several days to see the G.C.  Wrong.  One was good.  The kids were awesome, we walked really far on the South Rim Trail.  Henry was young and still sweet.  He wanted to be like Mom back then.  He had my extra point and shoot camera and took photos that actually rivaled mine with my Cannon.  I honestly can’t tell which I shot and which were his.  We ate lunch at the historic El Tovar Hotel.  Hayley really enjoyed this trip.  Parenting requirement, Grand Canyon, check.  Hayley was constantly asking when we were going to take Dad.  She said he needed to see it.  I felt excited to be on our way there.

We had not seen it all, you never can.  But I took the boys on a different route.  I have not walked more than 2-3 thousand steps a day for months.  It hurts.  I didn’t want to hold us back.  I sucked it up and walked about 5 miles that day.  Scott and Henry seemed just as tired as I was.  I couldn’t tell if it was truly physical or just our minds slowed down our bodies as we thought about who was missing.  The best part was driving the Hermit route.  I didn’t even know it existed past the parking lot.  It was a view that included the Colorado River.  It was truly stunning.  But it was also where I really went down one of those mental rabbit holes.   The Grand Canyon claims many lives every year.  Falls are common.  Most of the Rim trail you can walk right up to the edge and look down.  One clumsy moment, one selfie attempt and it is all over.  At the look outs they have a metal rail, thin and around waist high on me.  At the last few stops I stood alone at the rail.  I gripped it tight and weeped at the injustice of this tragedy.  I stared through the tears at this huge abyss of beauty.  I thought to myself, my grief would fill this canyon.  How do I recover from something so massive.  I truly believe I never will. As I gripped the rail I thought about how would it feel to just let go.  Let go of the rail, let go of the grief and just fly.  I leaned a little forward.  The landscape below and in front of me was breathtaking.  It didn’t look real.  It looked like a painting.  If I let go would it feel right, would I feel free from this heavy rock of grief I carry.  Henry and Scott were further down the trail.  They wouldn’t noticed, they would not witness my choice.  I leaned a little more but kept a firm grip on the rail.  The idea of letting go was so appealing I began to shake.  The tears started as soon as I had gripped the rail.  Could I do it?  What would that do to Henry?  Would it screw him up for the rest of his life.  He already has to live with grief that will eventually sneak up on him and take him down.  I knew I would not let go, but the fact that my mind went down that road scared the shit out of me.  The clouds, the blue sky, Hayley was there because I was completely open at that moment, able to let in all of the emotions I constantly fight to keep locked down.  My heart said to let go.  My mind ran through all of the practical consequences.  I don’t have a job, or life insurance.  I would leave them in a bad situation financially.  Scott would have to get them home.  I kind of laughed, he really sucks at the details.  They would probably get on the wrong plane.  What would happen to my dogs?  I still need to meet the woman with my daughter’s heart.  I thought about how so many women I know would be so pissed.  Like really really pissed.  This journal is about honesty.  This is truly honest.  I don’t think Scott noticed my plight.  The above scenario happened at three different points along that trail.  It only happen when there was a railing to grasp.  That told me I was safe, I would not let go.  If I was going to let go it would be were there was not a railing, a lifeline to hang on to.

I don’t believe in God.  If it is true then he or she is an asshole for ripping out half of my heart.  I do believe that our spirit is a part of nature.  I believe that we are tied to this earth in ways that we can not see with our eyes.  I am the one that loves to see the clouds change.  I notice the color of the leaves.  I was constantly pointing it out to my kids.  I would get on their cases about putting the phones down and look around.  Look at the beautiful place we live.  Notice the person walking their dog, notice the cool clouds, imagine what they look like.  Use as much of your brain as you can.  We only use so little of our brain, how can there not possibly be more after death.  But I believe those feelings I have of her presence come from my own brain and my heart.  I believe the ones that we love the most imprint themselves on our souls.  A biological daughter has literally come out of your body, lived inside your body, was created inside your body, that is a connection that can never be broken.  That is what I am feeling.  I can’t explain some things like the Bee.  I can’t explain the Medium we witnessed.  There is always an explanation that is scientific and concrete and one that is based on emotions.  But I believe that a child leaves a piece of themselves, cells, inside of your body.  I feel this grief has activated those cells.  My womb, that part of my body physically aches every single day.  I can remember exactly how I felt being pregnant with Hayley.  We struggled to conceive.  Maybe that is the reason she was so special.  

We returned to the resort.  We had a routine.  I would shower and we would all head to the bar.  I would sit with my  computer or iPad at the bar getting to know Tami, the bartender.  Henry and Scott would be across the room playing a game of scrabble on the wall.  For two nights I ate the amazing chili.  My GI system is still recovering, ask Scott.  But it was so worth it.  Henry ended each night with the smores skillet and I ended it with the Banana Bread pudding in a mason jar.  Henry would get ready for bed on his pull out sofa.  He didn’t complain because he had the entire living room, kitchenette space to himself.  He stayed up late and slept in every day.  We let him.  We went at our own pace.  The next day, Wednesday, Scott went on a hike.  He loved it.  I walked to breakfast, a Mexican cafe with two menus.  One for Mexican food and one for American.  That morning I met Gayle.  She is  beautiful woman probably in her 80s.  She comes twice a day the staff told me.  She has to sit in the same seat, which was next to me.  I complimented her on wearing my favorite color, Blue.  She explained that her guardians told her she should only wear blue, pink or yellow.  Uh oh.  She went on to explain that she was an oracle in a previous life and that the spirits talk to her.  I asked if she was a medium.  She explained that it is not something she can control any more so she would not refer to herself that way.  She jerked and said the spirits had just cleared her mind. She asked me what had my aura so sad.  She was fascinating.  I didn’t get to talk to Hayley as I hoped, but I met a very interesting person.  She sat in that seat because it had the best view of CNN on the TV and she had to keep an eye on Trump.  She called herself the only liberal in town.  I think I met my future self.  The next morning she wore Pink.  I told her it was our last day and that I was sorry I would miss the Yellow day.  She looked shocked that I remembered and more shocked that I greeted her by name and hugged her goodbye.  I realized that most probably wrote her off as one of the many “spiritual” folks that are drawn to Sedona.  But I really saw her.  I believe that is what I taught Hayley to do.  It was why she had a small group of friends she cherished.  It was probably why she always said “I fucking hate people”, lol.  As we left Sedona, Scott complimented me on the vacation.  He said it was a good choice.  He had spent some quality time with Henry and that is what I hoped for.  I had hoped one of us would.  I was still too wrapped in my grief to be that parent.  Watching Scott do it made me happy.  Henry golfed his first round at Sedona.  It was a special day.  It was a special vacation.