Wish you were here

I’m eating pancakes in a bar and watching the olympics.  In an hour I head out on a glacier kayak trip.  The sea air and mountain air blend to an intoxicating sweetness and the heavily booted fishermen drinking coffee around me are laughingly pessimistic about the possibility of a good catch today.

My mother would love this.  She died eight years ago today and I’m certain that she would be thrilled about my being here, but this is also a trip she wold have loved.  She might not go kayaking with me (god forbid her hair get wet), but no one loved fresh mountain air and rosy cheeks more than her.

Siobhan is already on her boat trip (she wanted a steadier boat than I did), and as I walked back for a second cup of coffee, I realized the date.

I miss you mom.  Thank you for everything. It’s because of you that I can take this trip. I’m so grateful.