Hippies, Hate and Healing

I was really, really angry. It came out of nowhere, but suddenly I was just pissed off at everyone and everything. I don’t know exactly what triggered it or when it started but I first noticed it about 4 or 5 weeks ago.

We had a camping trip planned. Jim had a 3 day weekend and we made plans with his family to spend the weekend camping together. We discovered the most idyllic spot to camp, just 20 miles or so south of Mt. Shasta – a perfect campground with spots nestled up to both the Sacramento River and a beautiful creek surrounded in lush foliage and moss covered rocks. We were set for a weekend of memory making and blessed time with the family we love in this beautiful wilderness campground. It was all set and just to make sure that we could secure our spots, I got up early that first morning and drove up to the campground. I paid for our spots, placed the required tag on the post stating that the spot was occupied and returned to complete packing the trailer for the weekend.

Jim had to work later than the rest of the family so they headed up to the campground before we did that Friday. I received a text from them a couple hours later looking for confirmation of the sites that I had secured earlier that day. Apparently, someone had moved into our creekside camping spot and refused to move. Despite multiple explanations to the hippie couple who had taken up residence that it was our spot for the weekend, they basically stated, “yeah, we saw the tag but you weren’t here, tough luck, we aren’t moving.” I was filled with disappointment at first and then the anger began to grow inside me like an inferno until I was positively seething with hate and resentment. I had driven almost 2 hours earlier in the day to secure that spot and these rude people had violated me and possibly ruined our entire weekend!

I had several hours to ruminate in my anger before we managed to arrive at the campground hours later. The hippies were still there, gleefully enjoying our beautiful camp spot and we were forced to make alternative camping arrangements. Fortunately, there were 3 spots together – not near the water, but we would all be together. I should have (and probably would have a year before) seen the silver lining or found the positive. This time, all I could do was focus on the unfairness of it all.

As we set up camp, we were somberly aware that  just 1/4 – 1/2 mile up the Sacramento River from where we were camping that weekend, the body of a 14 year old girl was being retrieved from her watery grave. A family was moments into the very same journey I had begun 8 months before and I was reliving my first moments after finding that my only child and his beautiful girlfriend had drowned. I was angry for them, I was angry for me, I was angry that it had to happen so close to me on a weekend that should have been filled with fun.

I had encountered a misunderstanding with Jim’s oldest daughter about a month before we went camping. She made no attempt to speak with me about it, but rather spoke with others who then spoke to me. I was so hurt, but it manifested as anger. Already struggling with anger and resentment that weekend, I felt totally justified in not speaking to her. In my mind, she had created the problem and I had neither the time nor the energy to make the effort to resolve an issue that I hadn’t created. Jim had invited her and the baby to stay with us in the camp trailer and I resented that I was being forced to reside in the same space with someone who had talked behind my back and been horribly unfair to me. I was angry at Jim, I was angry at her, I was angry that a child had died there and don’t forget, I was really angry at the hippies.

On Saturday, I walked down to the beautiful creek to spend some time. Water has always been the force that grounds and heals me so I thought that some time next to the water would help me sort through the anger that had taken me over. As I sat there listening to the sounds of the water gently gliding over the rocks, the calm I thought I would feel was replaced with a profound discovery. As I sat there, I realized that this beautiful place wasn’t so beautiful after all. This water that had always brought me peace had also killed my son. My son’s body lay in a creek just like this very one…the water I had always loved was now the source of my greatest pain. This water killed my son! Add it to my angry list. Water. Jim. The death of the girl. The lack of communication with Jim’s daughter and of course, the effing hippies.

The weekend was less than wonderful. We had a nice time but the tension and anger emanating from me put a damper on the fun we could have had. I own this.

Over the next week, I struggled with anger. It was as though I had a chip on my shoulder and I was going to make sure that everyone knew it. I had been a victim over and over and I was angry. And I recognized that somehow, I had entered a phase of my grief that I had to do something about. Grief is something we go through, not stay in. And this wasn’t a place I needed to be long. I didn’t want to be here.

I spent a great deal of time thinking about Tristan. Sure, I was justified in my anger but I also knew that he wouldn’t like me like this. I really wasn’t honoring this kid that I love so very much. In fact, I was doing quite the opposite. And that didn’t make me feel good. It was time for a change.

I spent the next week going through Tristan’s photos, his awards, his diary from Camp Royal. I whispered to him through the tears and told him how important it is that he is proud of me. I told him that I was sorry for not honoring his memory and asked for his guidance as I navigated forward. In an angry, self serving world, I want to be someone who can put positivity out in the universe and I want to do it in Tristan’s honor.

I’ve begun my journey to honor his memory. Nothing major, nothing earth shattering and certainly nothing noteworthy. But I know that these things I am doing make a difference in someone’s life somewhere.

And amazingly, the anger is gone.