The Mountain Abyss

I went to visit my cousin Bob and family this past week in Pennsylvania. Before we left we buried our cat Muffin who died tragically by the time we got her to the vet the same morning. It was exceptionally tragic - she was only 10 years old and we loved her dearly. She started gasping for breath and panting, but she died within 10 minutes of arriving at the vet's. Since they couldn't find a vein to do the IV, we don't know what she died of but it looked like it was diabetes.

The drive was approx. 350 miles according to Google maps which my husband decided to follow rather than the directions that were sent to us. We ended up way, way out of our way and of course we left our hosts' directions at home after printing up the Google Maps directions.

We wound up on a street named E. End Mountain Rd. but it was a one lane dirt road in the middle of a State Forest, which was probably 10 miles from their house on a street also named E. End Mountain Rd under the same zip code. There was only one, according to Google and it assured us that the house was on the left .53 mile down the road off a few other uninhabited roads. Since we had never been there before we kept going. Following the arrow on the State Forest sign, we followed E. End Mountain Rd. Less than a third of a mile it became a cliff road where the edge of the road fell off way, way down to our left. The house couldn’t be on the left because it was a steep cliff with trees going down maybe 2000 feet on the side of a mountain. We had no room to turn the car around. This one lane dirt road had huge bumps and a glass of water in the cup holder sloshed out even though only half full. There were no houses or people anywhere in sight until an older model car hell bent driving in the opposite direction rocketed past us at an incredibly foolish speed: there was barely space to pass, in my opinion even going slowly. Obviously, locals.

We found a turnaround a mile further It looked like coal had been dug here at one time and we turned around rather than go any further while the bottom of the car scraped into the dirt, worrying we would get stuck since the road was so awful. The sun was setting and it was getting cold. Our cell phone signal was blocked – I stood on the edge of the road to absorb one bar’s worth of reception to call our host. The phone failed half a dozen times before we finally got through. She had no idea where we were when we told her and told us to get back on Interstate 80 and call us when we got there.

On the outside edge of that road coming back, I thought to faint from fear. The tires were on the very edge of the road which was on the very edge of the cliff. Worse, two trucks were coming towards us, as we were way, way, way too close to the edge, me pleading “Let me out of the car! I need to get out! Please STOP the car!"

I was sure we were going to go over the edge. Who knew if the soil was sturdy? We keep driving on, and our tires on the very edge, as the two trucks stopped and allowed us to creep past slowly, very slowly, while I closed my eyes and stared into the black abyss of an imagined terror-filled fall to the bottom of the mountain.

If we had followed the directions that were sent we would have been fine.

Our host sent daughter M out to get us in her car off Interstate 80 a few exits away and we followed her home.

Since I was already sick it was not fun physically but in every other way I enjoyed their company. I hadn't seen them for over 20 years! Margaret was also sick with a similar ailment with similar onset but she came down with it hundreds of miles away: we both had bronchitis aggravated by asthma. I couldn't clear my lungs, being 12 years older and more decrepit, and wished I had brought more medicine. Although the sofa bed was comfortable, I did not sleep well. We drank lots of tea and had a hot toddy on Saturday.

Due to lack of sleep I was not at my best. Thanks to the efforts of E & M I loved being with them although it was extremely difficult seeing cousin B dying apparently before my very eyes, as he was under a terrible weight of pain and suffering. I worried that I had invaded his space, and his misery, but he seemed to be coping well - much better than I could imagine anyone coping with so much.

Privileged to have known this man, and his family, I am grateful although I doubt I did well trying to convey it. My memories of Bob and his family spending time hiking, camping, bicycling, and sharing science fiction novels continues today. His medals from marathons I had not known existed - we had lost touch, and now were reintroduced to each other. I wish, so much, that I had not missed so many years!

His daughte M introduced us to the Firefly series and we collecte our own copies of the Serenity books and DVDs. She knitted a great hat which he wears everywhere, and I’m sorry I didn’t order one also. The little red haired girl is a grown woman now and so competent in every way that it takes my breath away. I’m glad we became reacquainted, although sorry for the conditions that it occurred under, as B will not live long and I’ve missed many good years with him and all the family.

That a second death of J’s wife S’s father occurred earlier that week makes this a doubly tragic time for everyone. So much sadness. Most of us have taken life for granted – it can be snuffed out over time or in an instant, and it makes it no less difficult for the survivors to endure.

This week I've struggled to stay awake through a troubling bout of bronchitis and had barely enough energy to do more than eat, sleep and keep breathing. I went to work Thursday and Friday tired but determined to stay awake and be productive. Finally today, Saturday I can write and read the blogs of M from the past couple of weeks to find out how everyone is doing.

I have nothing to complain about, as I'm healing, I'm living, and loving my life, appreciating the people who have been in that life, and wishing them well, wishing I could do more.