Nearly once a week, he’d stuff cookies into his pocket and we’d hike the river. And always, we stopped for coffee and Chai tea to sip with his stash of cookies. It was Cody who taught me to pay closer attention to the wonders surrounding us.
On a day when we normally would have been surrounded by kids and grands, Dan and I packed our Thanksgiving feast into the wilderness and spread it out on a tablecloth overlooking a snowy landscape.
Chai tea, turkey sandwiches, potatoes and gravy, and veggies never tasted better.
“Wow. Didn’t expect this much snow.” Dan and I hadn’t brought our snowshoes. Because our intent was to hike. In hiking boots.
It’s snowing as I write this—beautiful fluffy white stuff falling from the heavens—but honestly it wasn’t that long ago when I introduced my new husband Dan to a favorite Cascade trail.
Dan and I made a spontaneous trip to the Oregon coast this past weekend. One of the reasons was to remedy our kite-flying fail from two weeks ago when we were passing through and had to stop and buy a kite and run on the beach and get sand between our toes.
We learned the results of Dan’s biopsy last week while away from home: A small amount of prostate cancer.
The urologist said Dan could opt for treatment, but he recommended expectant management—sometimes called “watchful waiting.” He said a normal side effect of expectant management is anxiety.
“I’m going to marry someone who will stop and play in the snow,” our daughter announced. At the time, we were on a family road trip across winter-white mountains. And the purpose of the journey was to get to the destination. Safely. And in good time.
In January, Dan and I took on the challenge to complete 52 hikes in 2020. We were already on hike #38 by April. And so we revised the goal: we would aim to log in 500 miles before year’s end.
“I don’t have to drive home by myself!” We were in Idaho. Extended family members were eager to meet this man who’d won my heart.
For the past five years, I drove this route alone. And now I had a husband for the long road home.
A friend texted four days before our mid-July wedding, teasing good-naturedly: “Enjoy your last few days of freedom!”
