Cosmic Curiosity and Bloody Feathers
Days Walking - 134
I spoke to Church on the phone - the first thing she said to me was: "You're not coming back, are you?"
"What?" I said. "Why do you say that?"
Apparently I say "Hello" very suspiciously.
The other night, as I entered Dad's hospital room - standing there in the doorway with my stomach flip-flopping, I was nervous. It had been months since I'd seen him, and he'd been through a lot, and I didn't know what I would see, and how I would react to it.
I didn't want to start crying - that would make him worry, and he doesn't need that stress. He needs to get better and live forever, or at least until I can introduce him to his Great-Grandchildren.
My brother nudged me, and I realized I was hanging in the doorway. I moved into the room and caught a glimpse of Dad. He looked so tired and pale. Wrung out. He'd lost weight, and he looked older for it. And his hair has begun to gray.
I managed not to cry, right then anyway. He looked more vulnerable than I've ever seen him, and it was that moment that I knew. I wasn't going to fly almost four thousand miles back to Ack, hike off into the middle of nowhere, and have my Dad pass away while I'm powerless to stop it, or even to say goodbye. To squeeze his hand and demand that he snap the f*ck out of it and get up and LIVE, DAMMIT.
So I'm not going back to Alaska. I had every intention of going back, as I packed my crap and boarded the plane in Fairbanks, during the flight, as I got off the plane in Los Angeles, on my way to the hospital with my brother, as we parked at the hospital, into the door, up the elevator, and down the hall. There was no doubt in my mind that I'd return to the hike.
Does it make sense to say - I'm very disappointed by my decision. I've spent a lot of time, effort and money planning the trip and making it happen. I quit my job, sold my car, sold all my furniture, and broke up with my boyfriend. I completely up-ended my life. And while every day on the hike was not always fun, I was glad to be there.
There was so much I wanted to do and see, and people I wanted to meet. So much to learn and experience, and I'm going to give up this easily? And if Dad had been sick a year ago, would I have ever gone? I don't think so.
It's not Dad's fault. I don't want him to feel guilty. It's not like he's weighing me down. I'm weighing me down. When I left, everything was fine, all my ducks were in a row. And I turn my back for a bit, and the ducks are going apeshit and killing one another, blood and feathers everywhere. I don't want to come home in five years to a pile of bloody feathers and dead ducks.
I've come to realize what my priorities truly are. I want my family preserved, whole and healthy. I know Dad will pass away someday, and living in Los Angeles is not going to change that. But at least here I can be useful.
If Dad and Joann stay together and get married, my role in his life will change. I used to pester him to eat better, take his vitamins, all that motherly crap, and that's gonna be her job - or it is already. I might be exaggerating my role in his life at this point. I can't nurse him like I could before. But I can be here, on call.
Which is how it has to be. Because there's no way I'm going to get a call while 300 miles from civilization, to find out he's dead. He's gonna live a long time, and I'm gonna be here to enforce that.
Meanwhile, in Ack - Church, Adrian, Caeled, and Kwame are still deciding what they want to do. From our talk last night, I'm making an educated guess that they'll opt for heading home. I wonder what would have happened if Gabe hadn't hurt his knee? I'm not saying all this is his fault, just cosmic curiosity.
I won't be blogging much for a while. I've got to start updating my resume, looking for a job, and all that other fun stuff that life in the civilized world demands. I'll probably start a new blog, since this is meant to be the hiking chronicle, not the 9-5 regular life borefest.
I spoke to Church on the phone - the first thing she said to me was: "You're not coming back, are you?"
"What?" I said. "Why do you say that?"
Apparently I say "Hello" very suspiciously.
The other night, as I entered Dad's hospital room - standing there in the doorway with my stomach flip-flopping, I was nervous. It had been months since I'd seen him, and he'd been through a lot, and I didn't know what I would see, and how I would react to it.
I didn't want to start crying - that would make him worry, and he doesn't need that stress. He needs to get better and live forever, or at least until I can introduce him to his Great-Grandchildren.
My brother nudged me, and I realized I was hanging in the doorway. I moved into the room and caught a glimpse of Dad. He looked so tired and pale. Wrung out. He'd lost weight, and he looked older for it. And his hair has begun to gray.
I managed not to cry, right then anyway. He looked more vulnerable than I've ever seen him, and it was that moment that I knew. I wasn't going to fly almost four thousand miles back to Ack, hike off into the middle of nowhere, and have my Dad pass away while I'm powerless to stop it, or even to say goodbye. To squeeze his hand and demand that he snap the f*ck out of it and get up and LIVE, DAMMIT.
So I'm not going back to Alaska. I had every intention of going back, as I packed my crap and boarded the plane in Fairbanks, during the flight, as I got off the plane in Los Angeles, on my way to the hospital with my brother, as we parked at the hospital, into the door, up the elevator, and down the hall. There was no doubt in my mind that I'd return to the hike.
Does it make sense to say - I'm very disappointed by my decision. I've spent a lot of time, effort and money planning the trip and making it happen. I quit my job, sold my car, sold all my furniture, and broke up with my boyfriend. I completely up-ended my life. And while every day on the hike was not always fun, I was glad to be there.
There was so much I wanted to do and see, and people I wanted to meet. So much to learn and experience, and I'm going to give up this easily? And if Dad had been sick a year ago, would I have ever gone? I don't think so.
It's not Dad's fault. I don't want him to feel guilty. It's not like he's weighing me down. I'm weighing me down. When I left, everything was fine, all my ducks were in a row. And I turn my back for a bit, and the ducks are going apeshit and killing one another, blood and feathers everywhere. I don't want to come home in five years to a pile of bloody feathers and dead ducks.
I've come to realize what my priorities truly are. I want my family preserved, whole and healthy. I know Dad will pass away someday, and living in Los Angeles is not going to change that. But at least here I can be useful.
If Dad and Joann stay together and get married, my role in his life will change. I used to pester him to eat better, take his vitamins, all that motherly crap, and that's gonna be her job - or it is already. I might be exaggerating my role in his life at this point. I can't nurse him like I could before. But I can be here, on call.
Which is how it has to be. Because there's no way I'm going to get a call while 300 miles from civilization, to find out he's dead. He's gonna live a long time, and I'm gonna be here to enforce that.
Meanwhile, in Ack - Church, Adrian, Caeled, and Kwame are still deciding what they want to do. From our talk last night, I'm making an educated guess that they'll opt for heading home. I wonder what would have happened if Gabe hadn't hurt his knee? I'm not saying all this is his fault, just cosmic curiosity.
I won't be blogging much for a while. I've got to start updating my resume, looking for a job, and all that other fun stuff that life in the civilized world demands. I'll probably start a new blog, since this is meant to be the hiking chronicle, not the 9-5 regular life borefest.
I'm worried that all of you will be disappointed in me. Your words and thoughts really matter. I know you guys have been pulling for all of us on this journey, and I love you for it. Thanks so much to all of you - for your encouragement, caring wishes, sincere thoughtfulness, helpful suggestions, interested questions, and blessed comic relief.
Litany Webb, signing off
Jump to Start..........FAQ..........Previous Post
Litany Webb, signing off
Jump to Start..........FAQ..........Previous Post
posted by Litany @ 3:47 PM
5 comments
5 Comments:
We aren't disappointed in you. I think your decision makes sense. You are choosing what you have to do. And I'll enjoy hearin about your life be it on some crazy hike or in a cubicle.
Hear hear. Cubicle stories I wouldn't want to miss either. Keep writing!
It's your life so you get to decide. And you can start fresh now.
I love your decision. Life is full of cosmic curiousity and bloody feathers as you so eloquently put it, and I don't think you will regret the time spent with your father for one second.
And yes.... cubicle stories, please!
I'm sorry you have to leave the Pilgrimage, but you had to make the decision that was right for you. If I were in your position, I would imagine I would have done the same. You may miss out on some things by not making the trek, but if something serious did happen to your dad while you were away, I imagine you'd trade it all in to be with him.
Don't be too disappointed by the thought that you won't be able to see or all these grand things or meet all these interesting people you thought you would on your trip. Life is full of interesting people, you don't have to travel cross country to find them. Besides, you're young, you've got all the time in the world to do and see things.
I can't speak for everyone, but I don't think any of us are disappointed in you. The only thing that would disappoint us is if you stopped blogging.
Jeez, I've been reading your blog every day at work, and I'm bummed that you won't be finishing the hike. I was thinking there was some big book deal and a weird Inuit love affair just around the bend.
But (and not that you know me) I support your decision to stop and stay, and be with your dad.
And give yourself some major credit: walking from the top of the earth all the way to Fairbanks is a pretty massive feat in itself. Maybe when your dad and Gabe are better, you can simply...resume! Or, now that you're back, Kato can try to woo you closer to home (he has a big crush on you, you know! I'm sure I'm not the only one who thinks so!). Good luck, and keep us "posted".
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