Another year has passed since my husband was killed... "time heals all wounds, right"? I would love to be able to agree with that statement, but no matter what, the scar remains as a reminder, and four years later the wound still oozes almost like an infection... I get tired of feeling the broken heart inside my chest....
Every year on the anniversary of the day he was taken from me, my hope is to face that day on the top of a mountain. My meager human attempt at trying to get as close to heaven as I can. The climb is always a challenge and I continuously think of him and try to draw from his strength. A symbolic journey that represents my life as it is now. Rather than facing the heartache at some memorial, my heart will burn from exhaustion as I complete a memorial climb. It's my commitment every year to continue this climb and this journey even though he is no longer physically in my life. This last year it was more of a physical challenge then the mental challenge it has been in the past. I believe that mentally I have grown stronger. I've prepared myself for the inevitable fact that this climb and journey I am going to have to go through alone. We did a lot of climbing together, we always faced our challenges as a team. I lost my partner that would ensure our summit together. The climb that was once shared and endured with my best friend, is now a test of self endurance and motivation.
Even on the days the endurance and motivation seem to be non existence, I think back on the climb and try to put life in perspective... all I have to do is put one foot in front of the other and keep on moving... stop and rest every once in awhile and enjoy the majestic scenery of life in every aspect or catch a break and take a nap if I'm too tired....
