Aug
5
Never Live Life With Regrets
August 5, 2009 | Leave a Comment
Never Live Life With Regrets
This has been my motto for close to thirty years and has helped me with many decisions and choices to take the path less traveled. My father-in-law taught me this life lesson and had used the example of his own father to emphasize the point. His parents had lived a rather thrifty existence with hopes to enjoy life after retirement. When that day finally came they bought a travel trailer and headed south to Arizona. Shortly after getting their home on wheels, Harry, my Father-In-Law’s Dad, died of a massive heart attack. All of their plans to enjoy retirement together were suddenly cut short.
We all may not have the same dreams or aspirations in life yet, if faced with death in the near future, how would we change our path? Would we choose to see, be or experience more, or would we be content with those roads we have already traveled? Not all of us are adventurous and many may not understand those of us who are eager to go into the unknown. Do our fears control the outcome of our journey? Most definitely so! It may be a simple fear of rejection when asking another to dance or more complicated in fears of failure of career, home or family. The key is to control your own destiny through understanding what hinders, or perhaps, what motivates you. You may not always be able to control the outcome, but that is what makes life so exciting.
So being true to form, once I was freed from the drainage tube that has protruded from my back for the last six weeks and finally being allowed to live a more normal existence, we made a spontaneous decision to head up to the Canadian Rockies and arrived there barely in time for a family wedding. I treasure my family and any opportunity to get together. With distance and time making those events fewer and far between, I was thrilled to see so many of my Aunts and Uncles – knowing that the next time we gather for a wedding or a funeral, not so many of them will I be able to see and embrace again. If I did not make the effort to be there at this time, even with my chemotherapy beginning as soon as possible, I knew I would surely have regrets in the future.
We arrived late on a Thursday evening to the quaint little resort town of Fernie, British Columbia, tucked into the southern valleys of the Canadian Rockies. The next morning, as the drapes were pulled back to let in the morning sun, I saw the grandeur of the Rockies looming all around us. It was so spectacular I knew as soon as I saw them that they were my mountains to climb. Three jagged peaks jutted above the tree line and I was mesmerized with their beauty. They are called “The Three Sisters” and couldn’t be more perfect for my welcoming home to the mountains. Here in my homeland, just south of the peaks that I worked in as a teenager building nature trails, I would walk the slopes and hopefully stand on the peak of the middle sister before heading home.
This day was my first day to freely shower in four and a half months, as well as the first time I had been allowed to sweat since beginning my journey with cancer. Following the shower, I jokingly told a friend that I was sure I had drained the natural resources of southeastern British Columbia and was wondering if anything was on the news of the water shortage that had been created. Even though I was sharing a hotel room with five others, they graciously let me shower first and didn’t complain about the length of time I was in there.
The wedding was beautiful and the partying went well into the night. Yet, even with everyone trying to talk me out of the next day’s climb, we woke bright and early for our journey to the mountains. The hike to the peak was classed as a double diamond and would take between three to five hours to ascend and a couple more hours to make it back down. I had checked in with the Tourists Bureau and a few outdoor shops in town to get the information on our climb of the Three Sisters. We also brought along plenty of food and water to carry us for a few days, if need be. Just before heading out, my brother loaned us a can of bear mace and instructed us of its use, reminding us to test it at the base prior to the climb. I don’t think so! I could see me messing that one up before even beginning the hike. I figured Steve was big and scary enough to ward off any wild thing that would want to mess with us.
The climb was not marked as stated in the guide book and we found ourselves at the backside of the mountains with no clear path to trek. So, after contemplating our options, we decided to just start climbing. Up we went, out of the meadows and into the mountains. The scree I have mentioned previously while climbing Mount Hood in Oregon had nothing on this stuff. I don’t know if it was the variation in size and base, but this stuff was tough. We did make it to a trail, but eventually realized that it wasn’t manmade.
It was a path made by the 70 plus mountain goats we ran into. Actually, a huge male goat almost ran into me as I came around a rock and stood face to face with him. He was amazing and soooo grand! Unlike the female goats, this guy had a long bushy mane that was molting and his size was double that of the other goats. We looked at each other and as he quickly assessed the situation, he seemed to decide that he didn’t want to mess with the human with the big white teeth. If only he could have realized I was smiling and not bearing my teeth in anger, he might have stayed a little longer. Anyhow, he did leave me a few tufts of his hair on the nearby bushes to take home to the kids. What a cool experience that was.
The higher we climbed the more treacherous it became, to the point of danger. We were only about a hundred yards below the summit, but the angle of the incline was approaching about 60 degrees on very loose scree and there would be no saving ourselves if we lost footing. The only option was to down climb the same route which is always sketchy because you can’t see your foot placement very well. The decent was slow and unsteady, but once we made it to the meadow floor we were more then excited to get back to civilization. I didn’t even mind the last mile of hiking through stinging nettle with knee length pants.
Even though we did not make it to the peak, I have no regrets for trying. We found ourselves safely back to the hotel and once again I enjoyed the simple luxury of a long, hot shower.
This journey was full of mishaps which I would prefer to define as adventures: starting with leaving our passports behind and discovering the error four hours into our trip; being stuck in two feet of mud in the family van ten miles from civilization with no cell communication; losing our computer controlled van keys and having to be towed to a dealership to have the car computer reprogrammed and new keys created; and last but not least, having our roof-mounted luggage carrier’s lid blow off during an eighty mile an hour cross wind and yard-sailing our climbing and camping gear all over the I-15.
Each of these events brought spice to our life and joy to our journey. A pretty crazy concept to imagine . . . Eh? Well, we experienced (once again) the kind heart of a friend who would drop everything and FedEx the passports to Montana so the Canadian border guards would let us in. We’ve learned that after almost 27 years of marriage we can laugh and not cast blame for keys that are lost or being stuck for three hours in the wilderness on a 4X4 road where family vans don’t belong, and that strangers are so willing to lend a hand when that hand is needed.
Finally, I look to the heavens in gratitude for safety on a busy freeway as traffic was dodging the massive amount of debris that we so rudely dropped off over half a mile stretch and four lanes wide. After collecting all we could find we headed down the road another five miles to get more rope to tie the lid down just a little tighter when, heading back onto the freeway, our oldest son called to ask how his uncle liked the fly rod that he had worked on periodically over the past 3 years to build. OH NO! We really thought that we had found everything and now, as dusk was falling, discovered the most important item of all was somewhere five miles back.
We headed back and with this new search found one sleeping bag, a thermal rest ground pad and a loved tee-shirt, but no fly rod. We had now been out there searching the half-mile stretch both sides of the freeway as well as the meridian for about half an hour. As I walked along a marsh area to the east of the freeway and passed what I felt was way beyond where we initially stopped, I pleaded with my Heavenly Father to help us find this item which meant so much to our 16 year old son. Just as I was about to give up, I was prompted to go to the meridian and continue walking south, which I did. Almost questioning out loud the impossibility of anything being found that far from where we stopped, I was ready to turn around to head back to the van when I spotted a protective green case about fifty yards ahead. In perfect condition without a scratch, the case protected the hand-crafted fly rod – the treasure created by a young man’s hands and brought another gift in my life of how real the power of prayer truly is.
However subtle the promptings of the spirit may be, it is important to be willing to listen and then to act upon the directions given. But, to be reassured that we are not alone and we truly are spiritual beings having a human experience was the gift I found as dusk fell in the middle of a wind blown freeway that evening.
While in Canada I talked with someone whose mother was diagnosed with cancer nineteen years earlier. At that time she was given only a few weeks to live. According to this man, his mother collected hundreds of pictures of things she still wanted to see and accomplish in life. She then proceeded to pin them up all over the walls of her home so she could be inspired to live another day. Those images gave her hope and much more – they gave her a new lease on life and she still lives today.
Doctors can keep you alive, but Doctors can’t make you live! It is up to each and every one of us to live our lives with images of tomorrow and to NEVER LIVE LIFE WITH REGRETS!