“Here lies Aidan, loved by some”
I love those moments that feel easy, light and fun. The ones where you find comfort in shared vulnerability and the times you get lost, truly living in the present. I had one recently as my family pondered what we termed “honest epitaphs.” Weird that I had one of these moments when contemplating death? Hear me out.
We have a Mother’s Day tradition of driving up to a high mountain lake near where we live. The snow is slow to melt at 8,000 feet, and every year, it’s a bit of a guessing game as to how far we will make it up the road before we have to abandon the car and strap on snowshoes to continue our trek to the lake. Late snow and cool temperatures meant that we didn’t make it very far this year, so our romp through the snow began early.
At the outset, we determined that our goal was not the lake but the fun of the excursion itself - distance didn’t matter, and we had no firm destination. This distinction of the hike’s purpose was important for me. As someone who often gets hung up on how far we are going (I like to go far) and needs a clear turning point. (i.e., we will go to the big rock by the tree and then turn), this clarity was freeing. So with that out of the way, we snowshoed and our conversation meandered.
At some point, after happening upon a stripped and abandoned snowmobile, we had an Oregon Trail moment of wondering what had happened, “Here lies so and so…died of dysentery.” So we kept going and made them personal.
“Here lies Daddy. He knew everything, except for the things he didn’t.”
“Here lies Elliot. The kindest boy who ever lived, unless he was hot.”
We nearly toppled into the snow giggling - they were so simple, so shallow and so silly. We were thoroughly amused.
The whole exercise reminded me of one of our favorite books - a compilation of National Park posters by Amber Share. As an artist, she has created beautiful, representative graphics of each park and incorporated language to describe them derived from one-star reviews. They go like this:
Sequoia National Park: “There are bugs and they will bite you on your face”
Hawai’i Volcanoes National Park: “Didn’t even get to touch lava”
Yellowstone National Park: “Save yourself some money, boil some water at home”
As lovers of National Parks, we find these Subpar Parks reviews hilarious. Our foray into creating our own epitaphs reminded us of the levity and incredulity we feel when reading Amber Share’s creation. (Here is a link to her great work)
It’s funny the moments that strike you, what they remind you of and where they take you. There was nothing particularly unusual about this one, but it felt as though we had totally lost ourselves as we tromped across the snow. With no particular destination, our minds wandered, we laughed, we didn’t take ourselves too seriously.
These moments, the simple, non-distracted ones, are precious in a way that I am coming to appreciate more and more as I get older. And learning not to take myself too seriously feels like a lot of fun.
“Here lies Mommy. She found hopelessly lost things… most of the time.”