ecological succession

I don't know where your soul found its final resting place, but I like to imagine you’re endlessly walking among the Sequoias, a cathedral of redwoods, your type of church you used to say.

I went on my first solo camping trip

I imagined I walked with you for one last time among those trees

Down the trails we had trudged season after season.

I whispered the secrets that held me captive into the wind as it blew through the trees. It carried my words and released them from me.

You were my father who loved me

the only way he knew how,

Who made awful choices

That hurt me deeply.

And I forgive you.

As tears streamed down my face, a shift occurred in me. I found my voice, my truth, my strength. I was able to speak to you some more.

I miss you. and this is our last walk together.

We walked in silence, the chipmunks and bees singing through the smoking trees. Fires had ravaged parts of the forest. What once was a cathedral of trees is now snags and dilapidated stumps. I sat on a burnt log and looked at the ashes. No longer would my raging forest fire of anger burn, the damage is done. The ground was ash and the birds were gone and I felt the pain of this burnt piece of forest. How quickly that fire forever changed this landscape. Tears rolled down my face.

Will my forest regrow after you?

A lone stag appeared unphased by my presence. He used his nose to move the ash around. I watched, entranced. What is this creature looking for in the aftermath of destruction? The deer moved the ashes to expose a small seedling, a dot of green in a pile of ash. Exposing the new growth to light. Moving with intention, he found pockets of green to snack on. Hope. This deer found something growing among the ashes, the beginning of an ecological succession. Deer and I sat for many minutes.

I forgive me,

With tears rolling down my face I titled my head back and felt the warmth of light on my face.

Your voice will no longer dictate my choices.

I am no longer the victim of my story.

An act of rebellion to put myself first. To guide my own path. To rebuild my life. That deer rested on a pile of ash and closed his eyes and for a moment we were both grateful for our fires.

I continued to hike down to our meadow, the one we felt was special. It was small and held rainbows of flowers in the middle. I rested and watched bees pollinate the flowers. Co-creating beauty. I sat with you in silence for many moments. Until the time came.

I am leaving you here, to wander among the trees.

I love you.

My father and I walked into the forest

And I walked out, alone.