So here I sit, at the end of April, again. I wrote a note almost exactly a year ago… thinking I was going to Africa… and instead ended up delaying my trip indefinitely on account of Ian. I recently re-read my updates from the last year and bawled my eyes out, I think I had blocked out much of the pain and scarring that’s happened. But it made me re-recognize how quick life can change, (.00001 seconds, if you were wondering) and not to become attached to plans, and to constantly use the word “tentative” when referring to them.
Anyway, so much has happened in the last few months it’s unreal. Ian’s last chemo session was in January, and every MRI and scan since December has come back completely and 100% clear. Also, all the side effects that the doctors warned us about: loss of hearing, loss of energy, not being able to walk up and down stairs… none of them happened, he’s stronger than ever before, and after the hearing test they said his hearing got even better. His hair and eyebrows are coming in nicely, and I continue to find it unbelievably amazing that the best thing that could have happened… did. We’re all so thankful for the hopes, prayers, and love sent to us throughout this year. We’ve been humbled and strengthened by all of you, and our gratitude is never ceasing.
At the end of February and beginning of March, four of my best friends and I went to Peru for a few weeks. We did the Santa Cruz trek through the Andes Mountains, and then went sight-seeing, and partying in Arequipa and Lima for the remaining time. It was one of the best trips I’ve ever taken, and the fact that I got to share it with my best friends made it all the better. A week after my return from Peru, we took a family trip to Vegas which was extremely relaxing, and fun. About three days after that I had all my things packed up in my last-leg Buick and I made the move out to New Hampshire to live with my Dad. I’ve talked about pursuing writing for a long time, and it’s about time that I actually start to do it… My Dad’s book (Here Be Dragons, you should read it… you’re welcome for the plug Dad!) came out at the end of 2009, and he has some ideas for projects that we both get to work on, as well as being able to use his guidance for getting published in magazines and journals. It was terribly sad to leave Colorado, my family, and the best friends that only come around once in a lifetime, but I am thoroughly excited for this chapter of life with my Dad, getting to be a big sister to Kennedy and Griffin, the beach, and actually trying to do this writing thing…
So that’s what’s up with me, but we all know it wouldn’t be a true Nicole note if I didn’t include some story, and the lofty life lesson I got from it… This one comes all the way from Peru…
The 3rd day of our trek in the Andes Mountains was a short day… we made it to our nearly 14,000 foot campsite by 11:30, and just got to play in the boulder field resting within the torsos of 6 giant glacial peaks. The peaks generated their own weather, and were constantly covered by dark, menacing clouds. One mountain in particular I announced as mine, and as it rained off and on all day I kept a careful eye on it, wishing away the clouds so that its peak could be revealed. We woke up the next morning at just after 4, before the sun rose, and my mountain still wasn’t clear. We started packing our bags, and putting away our tents, which proved more difficult a task than anticipated because our hands were so cold they were barely functioning. All the sudden the twilight clouds loosened their tight grasp, dispersed, and the jagged peak rising high above the glaciers, could be seen in all its Andean majesty. I’ve never seen a mountain so perfect. The girls got their cameras, while I stood and snapped from behind my mental lens for the 2 ½ minutes the clouds allowed us before swallowing her back up. I’m glad I was allowed that glimpse, because life is taking me in so many different directions; to new places and people and experiences, that I have no current intention to make it to my mountain again. But it’s interesting the glimpses life allows.
A few times during the trek I caught myself just speedily walking along, tunnel-visioned on the trail, not grasping the beauty of my surroundings, not consciously inhaling the freedom of life without cell phones and facebook, I was just focusing on getting to the campsite. But the trek wasn’t about the campsite at all… it was about the hike, the continual placing of one, tired, heavy foot in front of the other… it was nice to take off my pack and rest at the campsites, and the summit made me feel like a badass, but that wasn’t what made the trek… it was stopping to take every corny picture imaginable (if you’ve looked through the albums, you know exactly what I mean), it was falling in cow crap, and making Susan clean me off, it was not being able to contain my amazement at the beauty surrounding me, it was screaming the f word at the top of our lungs because we lost the trail in pouring rain, and the sun was about to go down… clichés become clichés because they’re true, and destinations really aren’t what life’s about.
My lofty life-lesson is to be appreciative for the glimpses along the way (even if they’re not good ones), to play in boulder fields, to scream when necessary, to take as many corny pictures as possible, and to laugh so you don’t cry…
And even as I pursue writing… Actually arriving (whatever that means, and hopefully I do it) I know will not be nearly as awesome as getting there.
Hope this note finds all of you well, thanks again for your love and support this last year!
Feliz Viajes, (“Happy Travels” the standard goodbye of Peruvian trek guides)
Nicole
