Flowers

I have been reading The Wild Braid, a book by the poet Stanley Kunitz with Genine Lentine, reflections on his garden. In the frontpiece there is a quote from Kunitz. “The universe is a continuous web. Touch it at any point and it quivers.”

Emily touched that web at numerous points and the reverberations continue, expand.
I wonder how I can pluck that web and play some of the music which coursed through her remarkable life.

I pick up the guitar again. I think about bringing out the paints and canvas. I sketch out in my mind how I might build a house. I even brought out my old journal and started writing.

I even wrote my first poem since last year. It comes out of flowers. Flowers lined the trail, comforting me. Flowers have been in our house since Emily’s accident. Becky filled pots outside with flowers while I hiked. There are still pansies alive and blooming in the pots from last fall. I need to garden, to watch lines and patches of flowers.

Desert Marigolds

Desert marigolds blossom in the stony back yard,
started from seed I harvested years ago
from plants in mountainous foothills
above the house where children grew up.

For years now the flowers renew.
Clumps of gray green stems,
bright yellow daisy flowers
migrate about the yard.
I picked some yesterday to put
in the white porcelain vase
small, with a silver cross,
placed next to the brown wicker basket
holding the black full box, unopened.

From Trailjournals:

Update

I have been home now two weeks. It has been good timing as Costco has fresh two pound containers of Oregon blueberries as well as still carrying strawberries and grapes. I have been making up lost time in the fruit consumption.

I think about the PCT a lot and the people I met while hiking. It was a great occupation to steer my mind away from sadness. Yet when I look at pictures of myself I wonder how healthy it was for me. One of my hiking colleagues, Piper, has a great blog where she has published a number of her photos from her hike. There is one from of a group of us eating at the Heitmans. I look cachectic, old, and generally worn out. Maybe that is the way I always look, but it startled me nonetheless.

I’ve gained about eight pounds. Oddly, my feet are only now starting to lose the swelling. It would be interesting to study what sort of problems arise out of such long distance hikes.

In an earlier post I briefly mentioned that we are starting up a scholarship in Emily’s name to help a teenager attend Y Camp Menogyn in Minnesota. Emily worked there four summers leading kids on canoe trips in northern Minnesota and Canada and backpacking trips in Montana.

The theme behind this scholarship is to combine community service with a wilderness experience. The recipient has to have shown commitment to serving their community through voluntary service.

Part of my hike was to raise money for this scholarship. I never really did push that aspect of the hike but I know that a number of you have contributed and again I thank you. I hope that you understand why I left the trail early.

Up to this point we have raised approximately $16,000.00 for the scholarship. It is our hope that this scholarship stimulates interest in community service and wilderness exploration in deserving teens over many years.

If you would like more information or would like to donate to the scholarship please email me at pgsandall@hotmail.com and I will send you the info. All donations to Menogyn and the Emily Sandall Foundation are tax deductible.

Miles For MeeMee

Laura, our youngest daughter , gave me a colorful bracelet when I first started talking about hiking the PCT. It says, "Miles For MeeMee". MeeMee was one of our nicknames for Emily. She'd abbreviate it down to Meems.

I wore the bracelet the whole hike, and still do. I hiked those miles for MeeMee, for my family, for myself. But now that I am off the PCT I still hike daily, although nowhere near the distance. It is still therapy, still searching for some solace.

Where do I take this? I don't want to get into some repetitive mode. I want to make sense of life, still live it with passion and hope. I want to explore how others deal with loss. What is the role of creativity? Where does hiking, or gardening, or good deeds fit in?
How can I, a loner at heart, tap into my community, expand it, nurture it?

Sometimes writing can be so introspective that it becomes painful. Hiking soothes that. Maybe there are other occupations as well which will help.

We'll see where this goes. But if any book ever comes out of it, I just might call it "Miles for Mee
Mee." She never had the chance to do all that she wanted, all that called to her. I feel bad about that. So we, her family, try to pick up those pieces and carry them as far as we can.

A Beginning, 1 August 2008

As I am off trail now, I should start moving my notes from Trail Journals onto this forum. I hope to continue examining my journey through grief and hope.

For those of you who are just jumping in, much of the story is told at www.trailjournals.com/emilysdad.

I left the Pacific Crest Trail in northern California, having hiked half the trail. My initial intention was to hike the full 2650 miles but loneliness conspired against me and I went 'off trail' a week ago. Now this writing continues the journey which began in November, 2006 when Emily died in Yosemite. It is a journey with many turns. I have no idea how it will turn out, or where it goes. I do know that since starting the PCT last May 1, I have found more strength and will .

I need to learn the mechanics of blogging, so I shall continue to write on the trailjournals site as well, then only here. Thank you.

I look forward to your comments.