My husband took this photo on Thanksgiving weekend, on our second attempt to climb the same mountain to catch the sunrise from the top. This was on the heels of our most recent SickKids trip, and as usual, we got home and all I wanted to do was fall in a pile.
It wasn’t that it didn’t go well. Actually, just the opposite. For the last two visits this year, our little human has managed to defy the odds (he has a knack for that), and we’ve been able to walk away with relief. We haven’t always been so lucky, and more often than not, I find myself bracing for the worst. Being there as the parent watching your kid get diagnosed with two chronic illnesses and go through a cancer scare can do that to you. Never mind my own complicated relationship with the medical system and chronic illness, and growing up as the kid who had one parent give their kidney to the other, and then some.
I digress.
A friend of mine planted a seed when I saw her photos of the sunrise from the top of Willisville and learned that she had made it a bucket-list goal for the summer to enjoy the sunrise with her family from the top. I knew I needed to do the same, and eventually, I decided that, come hell or high water, it was going to be on my fall bucket list. When our Thanksgiving plans fell through, this seemed like the perfect way to celebrate the holiday.
Our first attempt was miserable. It was a Murphy’s Law kind of morning. From failing to get out the door on time despite packing the night before, to the blown gasket on the milk container (which soaked breakfast and left a trail up the mountain), to realizing we’d forgotten to take our son’s brace off (ever try to climb without full access to your ab muscles?), and so much more. Needless to say, we ended up missing it, but I did manage to capture a beautiful shot. Later that day, I decided I wasn’t going to accept the loss and asked the fam if they were up for round two the next morning.
The second time, things went a lot more smoothly, but just a few metres shy of the summit, we missed a flag and didn’t quite make it to the top. We did, however, end up on the right side of the mountain, in a spot that was all our own, instead of sharing the summit with the other groups who had made the trek.
That morning was everything I could have asked for, even if it wasn’t what I wanted. It also wasn’t my first try. I pulled a valuable reminder from that weekend. Things don’t always go to plan. Even our best plans will meet unexpected obstacles. There’s always something to be thankful for, giving it a second go is worth it if it’s important to you, and sometimes things work out better than we planned.
We found the summit in the end, on a detour as we decided to head back down to the car. Truth be told, it was easily enough to miss, considering that we’d hiked it for the first time in the dark. I could have beaten myself up about it. Normally, I would have, but I let myself laugh it off and be thankful that we made it to the top eventually, but that was never the real goal.
I wanted to see the world wake up from on high, spend time with my family, and give my son an experience that would hopefully nourish his own Northern Soul. They say fall teaches us the importance of letting go. Sometimes, it simply reminds us that we can release our expectations, let things unfold as they will, and give something another go when it matters enough to us. I’d say I needed that reminder this year.
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