Table Rock Mountain

 

“This feels great,” my dad said.  And he looked great.  Hiking up a mountain in Idaho’s high desert, he was in his element.  He kept up the pace as our large group spread out.  “I just feel so good,” he said at another point.  I was happy to get this time with him and I wasn’t surprised that the hike felt good.  Growing up, he was always at ease in the natural world and never thought twice about taking his four small children on outlandish outdoor adventures.  Our family lore is rooted in the mountains of Idaho and being outdoors still offers peace of mind and physical vigor.

We turned the corner, arrived at the top and gazed over Boise.  We located familiar landmarks and talked about how Boise has changed so much over the years.  We took some pictures: squinty eyes in the rising sun, with Boise as the backdrop.  I wished I had insisted all of my children wake up for this early morning adventure so that the pictures would be complete.  My sister and I posed for pictures with our dad and made some ‘favorite kid’ jokes at our missing sibling’s expense.  Then we ventured down the hill as the sun was just getting hot.

At the bottom, dad didn’t get back in my car.  Instead he wanted to walk home from the trailhead.  It’s not a long walk and one that we’ve all walked many times.  I wasn’t surprised that this was his desire, but I felt a little unsure sending him on his way alone, but of course, there was no changing his mind.  He set off and we got our car organized and moved out of the parking lot.  By the time we passed him he was already on the main road and gave us a wave.  I looked at him in the rearview mirror and felt a whisper of worry - would he make it home safely?  Is it possible that he could lose his way?

I called when I returned to the hotel.  Dad was home safe.  That afternoon we enjoyed a family reunion picnic and late night swimming at the neighborhood pool.  It was a genuinely good weekend visit, a good accomplishment for our big family.

I stare at the pictures from this day and wish I knew then that this was the beginning of the end.  Maybe I would have been more thoughtful about the conversation.  Or planned out the pictures a little better.  I definitely would have made sure that all of my kids were there.  My dad’s life was long with many twists and turns.  He didn’t live looking through the rearview mirror of regret and wouldn’t want me to either.  So, today, on his birthday, I study the pictures, I remember the morning and I am grateful for this last hike.