Dear dad, I thought of you the other day. Mikey and I were flying over northern California and there was something...
something outside our window... that made me think of you.
I can't quite put my finger on what it was. But it was father's day and perhaps that's why you were on my mind.
Nevertheless, I love you and I'm honored to be your daughter. You're the best Dad ever!
2 comments:
WHOA - is that McKinley!?!?
Beautiful.
Makes my Suisse blood run hot and heart want to yodel!
Pass the De Echte Emmenthaler, and put on your boots!
When do we climb?
Oh, I know what it was that made you think of me. It wasn't the mountain. It was the metaphor of the mountain.
It wasn't just the fun of filching my Goretex.
It was the audacity we were permitted to creep upon The Massive; to dare to wonder before Towering, Ineffable Beauty; to strive to see The Majesty that cannot be seen apart from the struggle; and to swallow back the lump with swelling eyes, in the euphoria of being in The World of Celestial Immensities.
It is to be where Love calls to us in the Making of Itself: clear and unmistakable: "Up! Up; farther up ... farther in!"
Yes, Lord.
Holy. Utterly Holy. We share that.
Above 14,000 feet, up really high - high as the Heavens - is a good place to get a more accurate perspective on the love we find in Father and Child.
We have much more to find ahead of us, Jo.
Kierkegaard described his own journey "above seventy thousand fathoms"... and he wasn't done counting.
That's a lot of 14ers ahead of us.
I will wait for you to climb them with me.
They are all the metaphor of the Love upon which we stand and creep and strive and struggle and make our way Up in this life ... The Love I have been given to share with you.
Do you see that? I see it; in you.
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