A Good Day

Following a funeral today I found myself in a real life version of one of my favorite scenes in any movie.

As it is natural to dwell on death having just been confronted with the subject, two of my closest friends began to discuss what they were thinking about, and then Sissney asked me if I thought divorce or death of a spouse would be worse.  My answer to that question is probably another post entirely, but I realized I was  living "City Slickers" and expressed that to them.  What followed was profound and beautiful as we each shared our best and our worst days.

It is probably not fitting for me to share their stories, but since I bear my soul on this site anyway, I will give my answers to any who might care to read them.
My best day was preceded by my grandfather's desire to donate a car to the church where I worked in order to receive a tax break.  The only problem was that I was in Minnesota and the car was in Phoenix, AZ.  So it was decided that Heather would visit her family in Texas, I would fly to Phoenix, and I would drive to Texas to pick her up and return to Minnesota.  On my best day, I woke up early to leave my grandparent's condo.  I drove out over the hills surrounding Phoenix just as the sun was climbing over their peaks.  As I blared Neil Young's "Cripple Creek Ferry" on the car stereo, I was compelled to stop at a dried creek bed in order to explore and savor the moment.  This was the first of several serendipitous stops on that road trip, with my favorite being in New Mexico.  You see, I had decided to take no major highways on the trip, and so I accidentally ran into White Sands National Monument--a beautiful, snow-like desert surround by a sea of red rock.  As the moon rose, the sun set, and the temperature dropped, I sat in utter silence, completely alone without a soul around me for miles...and I thought of the words of God to Israel, "I will lead her into the desert and I will speak tenderly to her."  I didn't hear the voice of God, but I felt his presence and the impression of his word on my heart.  The moment was transcendent in its beauty. When it was over I drove on through most of the night to reach Heather in Texas.  That was my best day.

I could not think of my worst day without tearing up.  The story has been told here: how the boys fell into the creek, how the cold made them shiver but the fear that they might not be discovered froze their hearts even more, and how we spent a day in the hospital getting Aydan's core temperature back to normal.  I blame myself for not being there when they needed me.  It scares and saddens me to think I could have lost them.  That was my worst day.

I see in my best day my present-day love for adventuring, for retreating to new, far-off, isolated places.  I see that my worst day ended well, so I should count it as a good day, because I appreciate my sons more as a result of it.  But even more, I see today as a good day.  A time to reflect on the deep things of life; to have good conversations with great friends; to remember to live well.