. . . Worth It
September 12, 2015. One of the worst days of my life.
Richard and I had taken Monty, Chance, and Annie as a pack horse (just to let her have an outing) and drove to Cabin Gulch to take a ride in the burned area. We had not visited the fire area yet and wanted to see how it looked now that a few weeks had passed.
We unloaded, saddled and headed up the middle fork of Cabin Gulch. The recent rain had given the grass a little start, a tinge of green in the black. We met friends going up the road to cut fire wood. The cheery newlywed couple was excited to be out and anxious to get their wood pile finished before winter.
We rode to the top of Middle Fork and started down the East Fork of Cabin Gulch. Most of Middle fork had not burned. Much of the East Fork had burned. This place we knew so well, we loved to camp, hike, horseback ride and picnic in this area, was like a stranger, different, unfamiliar, and exposed. The black trees, the bare soil, and absent junipers, chokecherries, and other shrubs gave the area a hollow, empty feeling. However, I saw chokecherry bushes starting to come through the ashes; their green leaves a bright contrast with the black soil.
The day was warm and nice, the scenery troubling, and the small patches of green encouraging. I knew that the area would recover in time, a lot of time. Our friends passed us again, this time with a full load of wood, just as we reached our truck and horse trailer.
We reached home, unloaded the horses, and made coffee. We had had a wonderful day. Then, our daughter in law, Kristen stopped. She looked stricken. She asked us to sit down, and then explained that there had been a vehicle wreck and Terrick, our grandson, had died.
I couldn’t take it in. I thought I had fallen asleep on the couch and this was a bad dream. She kept insisting it was true. I looked at Richard. He was looking at the floor, his face frozen.
“We just came by their place, everything looked fine.” I said.
“Jon, (our son and Kristen’s husband), was there helping Cliff and John Carlton fix a bridge when the patrol car came, the officer told them about the accident. I was on my way home from Bozeman and Jon called me, it’s true.” Kristen said.
Every cell in my body was screaming no. Richard looked like he was coming out of a trance.
“Let’s go see Cliff,” he said.
When we reached our son Cliff’s and Jennifer’s place we knew it was true. Terrick, their son, and two of his friends were dead. Another friend was critically injured.
I felt like I was having an out of body experience. I was in a trance, trying to do the expected things, taking food to Cliff’s house, visiting, going to the funeral home, finding pictures for the service, but I never felt like it was real. Even viewing Terrick’s body seemed unreal. How could it be my precious, healthy, beautiful Terrick lying there.
September 16, 2015, the day of Terrick’s funeral. We sat in the family section. I was frozen and dry eyed. The Church was full of friends and relatives. Our present pastor, Mike Dexter, and a former pastor, Dave Carroll both talked and gave comforting words, but I didn’t hear them. Then Cliff stood up to say something.
“All the grief, the suffering, the sadness and sorrow were all worth it to have Terrick for sixteen years,” Cliff said. Then he read the 23rd. Psalm and sat down.
I started crying and was afraid I would never stop. It was real, it was terrible, but it was worth it. Having Terrick for sixteen years was worth it all.
The funeral for Branson and Keanu was the next day. Terrick’s burial was Friday, September 18. Days of grief and loss, days to endure, but in my head echoed Cliff’s words, it was worth it to have Terrick for sixteen years.
I love you and I miss you so much. I am anxious to see you again in Heaven. Say hi to your Uncle Lucas for me. Love Grandma.