Health by Heidi

 As the second day wore on, the clouds parted, and the sun emerged.  The stars on night two were massive.  Sometime in the night, I emerged from my tent to relieve my bladder.  When I finished, I stood on the beach in darkness, my head tipped back, eyes wide open, gaping at the awe above me.  The Milky Way looked like a dusting of powdered sugar on a black blanket, dotted with tiny marshmallows.  Satellites raced across the sky, chasing each other to the horizon.  Venus glowed bright above the eastern canyon rim, and Orion proudly displayed his belt for all the universe to see.  I shivered in the cold, but lingered a bit more.  Joy stood with me, alongside Happiness and Gratitude.  I felt my heart expand as I listened to the water flowing by, watched the magic of the sky unveil above me.   The magic is that you're here. I nodded as tears filled my eyes.  The magic is that I'm here.   Morning dawned cool and clear...

  The first evening on the river brought off and on rain all night long.  I surrendered to it.  I also love being in a tent in a rainstorm.   The morning of day two dawned with heavy clouds but no more rain.  Shannon suggested "Joy" as our group meditation theme, offering that he had invited her along on the trip.  I didn't know if I was ready for Joy, if I was capable of accepting Joy, but I sure wanted to try.   After loading the boats, we all settled on the sand for our meditation on Joy.   Joy.  Joy.  Joy.  Where are you?  Are you here?  Do I feel you? Joy.  Joy.  Joy.   I repeated the word in my head, hoping to feel some flicker of lightness.  I thought of being alone in the tent with the dogs in the rainstorm, of riding on Shannon's boat and how different it felt, of the glaring absence of the physical Scott on the trip.  I started to feel Infinite Sadness crawling up my spine....

  "How would you guys feel about doing a daily ten-minute morning meditation?" Lisa asked as we sat at camp at the put-in on the first night of the river trip. "I love this idea," I replied. "Me too," offered Shannon. "I would like to shoot for twenty minutes per day, so what if we did an evening meditation as well?" Brett said. We all agreed it was an excellent idea.  We decided to establish a daily group intention for the meditation.   "I think the first one should be 'Surrender,'" Brett suggested.   Surrender.  It was perfect.  Here we were, the four of us, along with two dogs, preparing to embark on a potentially terrible river trip.  All we could do was surrender and go for the ride.   At Shannon's suggestion, I had decided on a spot to spread some of Scott's ashes along the river.  The spot I chose was not too far from the put-in.  The morning that we launched, Lisa and I took the dogs and hiked the river trail to ...

  In late July, Lisa texted me.  Do you and Scott want to do a river trip in mid-September? I immediately replied.  Yes.  Me, Scott, you, Brett, and Shannon? Yes,  was her reply.   Then THAT DAY happened.   Even through Infinite Sadness and Despair, I knew in the first week after THAT DAY that I still wanted to go on the river.  I, along with the two dogs, always rode in the boat with Scott.  Lisa and Brett would have their boat.  Shannon, Scott's best friend, would have his boat.  I found myself without a boat.   On one of the many sleepless nights in that first week after THAT DAY, I was talking with Shannon on the phone.   "I have a question, and I realize it's a pretty big ask," I said quietly. "Ok," Shannon answered. "I still want to go on the river.  Will you row the dogs and me?" There was the tiniest bit of hesitation before Shannon answered, "Absolutely.  If you want to go on the rive...

  It was the summer of 2007.  Scott and I had just purchased our new property and were in the middle of a major house remodel.  We had also recently adopted Lily, the barn kitten who Scott fell in love with when we had to clean out her goopy eyes.   One sunny weekend evening, we decided to go over to our new property and hang out by the creek for a bit.  Scott suggested we take Lily to get her used to the new area.  The three of us, plus our dog Maddie, loaded up in the truck and drove over to our new place.  We went down to the creek and sat down in the shade.  It was the perfect summer evening.  The grass was tall and green, a gentle breeze rustled the leaves of the cottonwoods that towered overhead, the creek whispered softly as it meandered over rocks and roots, and the shade offered a cool respite from the hot summer sun. Scott started tossing a stick in the creek for Maddie to fetch.  Lily, about four months old at the time, f...

  I stood in a dark room in the bottom of a sinking ship.  I felt the ship listing, heard water pouring into the openings.  I glanced to my left and noticed a doorway.  Just outside the doorway was a staircase.  Water came gushing down the stairs, roaring in anger as it tried to consume the ship.   I have to get to a higher place on the ship,  I thought as I scrambled toward the doorway. I fought my way up the staircase against the flood of water pummeling down on me.  One step, then another, water heavy on me, trying with all its might to push me down to the bottom of the ship.  I struggled, forcing my legs to move.  Another step up.  More water threatening to take me back down.  Another step, then another, and another.  Finally, slowly, I managed to reach the top of the staircase.  The staircase opened onto the top deck of the ship.  I rushed to the railing and looked out at the sea, wondering how I was go...

  It was the day after the Q-tip motel, and we were on the road again.  Day two of our three-day drive north to the border.  Before I dive deeper into the story, let me give some information about driving in Mexico.  We stay on the toll roads as much as we can.  They are mostly equivalent to the freeways in the U.S.  They tend to be in better condition, usually have four lanes, and have higher speeds.  They also have random roadblocks.  Sometimes it's the local police, sometimes it's the Federalis, sometimes it's agriculture inspectors, sometimes it's any one of the numerous cartel groups.  They set up barriers in the traffic lanes that funnel cars through a narrow gap, forcing everyone to slow down.  Generally, they do a quick visual inspection of the vehicle as it approaches, then wave it through to keep traffic moving.  On occasion, they will wave a car or truck over to the side for further investigation.   Scott and I ...

  It was the end of January this past winter, and Scott and I, along with the two doggies, were heading north.  We had been in our favorite little beach town, renting an apartment from friends, and were now driving north to the border.  It was a three-day drive to reach the border, and we were embarking on Day One.  I had looked at the map a few days before and picked a town on the toll road that was roughly nine hours north of our beach town.      We drove and drove, stopped to let the dogs out, stopped to stretch our legs, stopped to get food and water and gas.  Finally, after a long, hot day in the car, we reached our destination for the evening.  A good friend of mine had driven through Mexico a few years ago, also with dogs, and recommended a hotel in this particular town.  Not knowing where else to go or wanting to drive around looking for accommodations, Scott and I eagerly took the recommendation.   We found the hotel p...

  I don't remember much from the past month.  There are bits and pieces here and there, but the details are fuzzy.  There is one particular morning, however, that stands out in my mind, clear as a high mountain lake.   It was a Monday morning, 16 days after THAT DAY.  My friend, Corinne, was staying with me.  The day before, Manic was the main guest at the party.  Corinne mentioned a few times how well I seemed to be handling everything and how strong she thought I was.  That is the outward appearance when Manic is in control.  I, however, was not doing well, and I didn't feel strong.   Monday morning, day 16, Infinite Sadness and Despair oozed into the room and smothered me.  Corinne saw that I was not, in fact, okay.  I woke up crying, and I kept crying.  I told her I was going for a bike ride to try and clear my head.  She thought it was a good idea, so I got dressed, clipped in, and pedaled down the driv...

  Scott and I were preparing to embark on our first river trip together (yes, the same trip where he wanted to see if I could successfully poop in a bucket).  There were fourteen of us going on the trip.  Scott and I lived closest to town and had the most room to maneuver trucks and trailers, so the group decided to meet at our house the morning of departure.   We had planned to pack all the gear onto Scott's big flatbed trailer and his work truck.  There was one other truck going, also pulling a trailer, and one passenger van for the people.  In ones and twos, vehicles began arriving and disgorging their contents.  Before long, our front yard looked like the world's biggest piñata had just vomited its brightly colored contents of boats and gear all over the lawn.  Stuff was everywhere.  Boats, kayaks, spray skirts, coolers and dry boxes, personal bags, oars, and life jackets lay in haphazard piles on every available inch of grass. ...

  Scott and I had started spending a bit of time in Mexico during the winter.  We rented a small apartment, worked on learning Spanish, and immersed ourselves in the culture.  We loved the people, the food, the heat and humidity, everything.   We had purchased some bicycles in the town where we stayed.  They were the perfect method of getting around town since we didn't rent a car while we were there.  One day, Scott was doing some maintenance on the bikes and realized both of their chains needed lubricating.  We walked into town and found a combination hardware store/pharmacy/fishing tackle store.   "Perfect," Scott said as we walked through the entrance.  "I bet they have it here." An older man, presumably the owner, stood behind the counter, conversing with another older man who was standing in front of it.   When Scott and I entered the store, both men turned and greeted us.  "Buenos dias!" "Buenos dias," we both ...