Make the Call While You Can



Tuesday looked like it would be a perfect day in the mountains—clear skies and warm temperatures. Hiking in the Olympic Mountains typically involves steep terrain, with little to no cell phone service.  Talk about a getaway. At the trailhead, I looked at my phone and saw the ominous message, “No Service”. I smiled. That meant no social media for a whole day—a break from the political minefield that it has become.

In our 40 plus years together, my husband and I haven’t done much hiking together. But in our few recent attempts, we’ve seen our compatibility issues—I hike faster, and he stops to take more pictures. Since I’m in front, I’m the one who typically scares off the wildlife, but he’s the one carrying the bear spray. Oh well.




I think Tom hikes because I enjoy it. If you need another definition of love, that’s it. We planned an 8-mile traipse through the high country to discover the views we’d seen only in photos.  


We weren’t disappointed—coming around an outcropping rocks we saw the wide expanse of the Strait of Juan de Fuca, our town of Port Angeles far below, Sequim to the east, and snow-covered Mount Baker even further in the distance. 


We hiked on and listened to the nothingness. Wind rustled the subalpine firs and the most amazing fragrance filled the air. Hiking gives my brain time to decompress. But the most memorable sight, was not the view. I got to see something that touched my heart.




When there was just enough cell signal to make a call, my husband called his 90-year-old mother, and FaceTimed her. He wanted to show her what he was seeing. I stopped and watched as he moved his phone showing her the astounding sights from a place she would have loved to see.


The call didn’t last long, but as I turned to continue down the trail, I marveled at how blessed it is that my husband can still share something amazing with his mother. I could hear the excitement in his voice. It’s a privilege to make those calls, and share something delightful. You’re never too old, nor are they. 


As I hiked on, I thought about the decades that have passed since I could call my mom and tell her something special. But on that mountain trail, I breathed in deeply and whispered my thanks to her for being my inspiration to do life and to do it to the fullest.






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