Learning To Live Again

It’s been about a year since I last wrote. I have several drafts where I really wanted to, I lost my way. As a family we’ve had our challenges and our share of painful loss, but these last two years have shaken my foundation to the depths of my soul. Where do you go, what do you do when your hero dies? Losing my brother Rob August 31, 2021 has left me utterly lost.

Fall has long been my favorite time of the year. Everything about it! I love the fresh crisp change in the air, the ever morphing art within the trees from brilliant reds, oranges, and yellows until the leaves cascade to become a fading carpet. Another thing fall brings: hunting season! I love getting out! A chill on your breath as you quietly stalk through the woods, ears perked to any sound. The wind through the branches, fluttering wings of a grouse, the tattling chatter from the squirrels. I love watching animals, and following their tracks.

Long ago my dad took me out. Hunting has long been viewed as only killing animals. My dad didn’t want me to share that view because there is so much more to it. As we worked our way to a spot, a herd of deer crossed the road in front of us. A little buck was following the procession strutting up a hill. On his way he slipped and fell on his butt, he then sprung up and embarrassedly glanced around, and proceeded to clamber the rest of the way up. My dad explained to me hunting can be as simple as capturing a moment. You can hunt with a camera, he explained, we had just hunted that deer, we captured that moment. We then pulled over so he could show me their tracks. We drove a little further and spotted a game trail, we followed it as well. Along the way he instructed me to look for tracks and which ones were old or fresh. When we were out my dad was a patient teacher. Sharing this great love with our kids has been a special legacy.

October 3, 2022 would have been my dad’s 80’th birthday. October 10, 2017 was when we lost him to lung cancer. I felt like he had more to teach and more laughs to share, but he did have a pretty dang good life. That being said, I miss him.

Two years ago Brooks and I had grand plans to travel together and take our dogs on a bird hunting adventure. The fishing season was winding down and we had a lot to look forward to. The exciting momentum came to a screeching halt as the consequences of our river family lifestyle caught up to us. October 9, 2022 I stood on the bank of the Bitterroot river in utter horror as I watched our dogs take their swim a little wide and get sucked into a snag of woody debris. Our son bravely ran to their aid only to be dragged in with them. He pulled himself from the waters icy grip and was able to save our dog Silas, but Fenris was lost. Brooks and I crossed separately to help, to no avail. He was gone forever. I noticed the gravel/sand bar behind the tangle of trees had several tracks from other recreators and their dogs. Sometimes Mother Nature knocks us down a peg to remind us she’s in control. The realization of how close we came to losing our son and the loss of our dog who was a very special family member nearly crushed us. A little over a month after this event a good friend of ours died along with his dog. Our friend Carl Mann was out duck hunting on a frozen slough, his dog fell through the ice, he tried to rescue her. This sobering event ripped that fresh wound wide open yet again, reminding us how much we lost and how much worse it could have been.

Missing Fenris, we brought two puppies into our lives. Albus and Hakan reminded us to get out of bed and slowly pick up the broken pieces. That day will leave us forever changed in so many ways. I can finally close my eyes to the blankness of the back of my eyelids instead of that moment that is forever burned into my brain.

A little over a year ago, August 31, 2021 we lost my brother Rob to covid. Growing up he was our big brother and hero! He had such an infectious nature and an incredibly magnetic aura you wanted to be near. Rob had a zest for life and a deep connection and love of the outdoors.

We were estranged from him off and on for almost 20 years. The reckless life he led as an addict pulled him away from the family that held him so dear. I spent years searching for him, pouring over jail rosters across the state. Periodically I’d find him and we’d all visit him. We wanted him to know that even though he felt like he had dug in so deep there was no way out we were right here waiting for him to see we never left. We loved him the whole time, of course we were disappointed in the decisions he made and in the life he was leading. Nevertheless, we were waiting for him, hoping someday he would see.

Growing up, our kids didn’t understand my search I’m sure. I never hid why he was gone or what he was up to (age appropriately of course). They did get to meet him periodically over the years. He’d have brief times where he would get sober and we’d get a glimpse of the man we put on a pedestal. Eventually he found himself in the Missoula County Detention Center. We had him! We (my sister Kathy and Brother Mike) visited consistently. My sister sent him a bible and he connected to the guidance and acceptance within those pages. Robby completed a drug treatment program and transitioned home with our sister Kathy. He spent his last years helping others who had walked his same painful path, leading by example.

In all honesty I understood what he was doing and why though I couldn’t help being hurt and a little jealous of the time he spent with the people he was helping. I wanted to be a part of my brother’s life too. I wanted my kids to know the person I looked up to so much. We feel like we have so much to do in life and so much time to do it. I guess my brother had survived so many things, I couldn’t help but think we had time to eventually spend together. The one certain thing I know is that the number of our days are uncertain.

So much has happened. I’ve only mentioned a few things here. This last year especially has left me lost. Early this summer as we approached Robby’s death day much weighed on my mind. One year ago, I could talk to him, one year ago I could have tried harder to be in his life more. One year ago…

The best way to describe how I feel is that my very soul hurts.

I can’t live in the past thinking about what I should have or could have done. I can’t forever live in despair of the ones I miss and love so much. It’s time to move forward and remember to live. I may not be able to laugh with my dad, snuggle my dog, or hug my brother, but they are still here with me. I’ll bring their memories with me this fall as I learn to forge ahead on adventures inspired by everything they taught me.