A road trip is a quest. Twenty hours in a car proved exhausting, but we were rewarded with understanding exactly where we were when we arrived. Geographical orientation was a benefit of the journey. Our trip to Crested Butte was 1,151 miles. The last hundred miles took hours. We twisted and turned; a seemingly endless, sometimes terrifying, climb to reach and ascend through the clouds. By the time we arrived, we knew we were far from Sandwich, Illinois.
Everything is different in the mountains. Each breath contains less oxygen. The sun burned our skin. Hydration was a challenge. The Milky Way burns starkly against the dark sky. Magpies live in the mountains. They mate for life and have something akin to funerals—Magpies’ relationship to weddings and funerals resonated in my core. Wild sage is abundant. Native Americans have a ritual of burning sage to purify, invite clarity and promote healing. During a wildfire, sage burns along with everything else. Quaking Aspens thrive after a fire. Nature is wise.
We gathered on the mountain for a wedding, a beautiful celebration following a devastating loss to our family. Life and death. Yin and yang, the inherent reality of being part of a community. We gathered among the rocks and prickly drying sage in an opening of Aspens. We gathered to reconnect our roots, like the Aspens that share DNA. We laughed and cried and hugged. We quietly mourned our loss. We loudly celebrated two young lives full of potential. We always celebrate LOVE.
This wedding was the first family event that my generation was the eldest in attendance. Like the life cycle, the passing of leadership is natural in a family. Our parents, aunts and uncles taught us well. We were tasked with showing up, being available and stepping away as needed. Our job was to set an example and share the wisdom of those before us.
When I was 16, my dad handed me a slender stick and asked me to break it, which I did, easily. When he gave me a bundle of 5 or 6 similar sticks and asked me to break them, I couldn’t. This was a lesson in family. Together no one can break us. As the emerging senior generation, I understand we have huge shoes to fill in the Miner family. We don’t take that responsibility lightly.
I looked around and understood how fleeting time is. I studied my children and my nieces and nephews. In the blink of an eye, their generation will replace us as elders. Like the Quaking Aspens, they have shared roots. May they continue to come together in celebration and sorrow. May they thrive after the fires. May they never forget the strength they have together. May they always celebrate their bloodline. We are blessed to have been born into such a family.