Skip to main content

Letting the Light In...

If you look closely, you can see the tiny patch of blue sky peeking from behind the dark clouds. It's not easy to see because the dark clouds surround the area where the light shines through.

I took this on Monday as Alli and I were driving up highway 2 towards Steven's Pass. For those of you that worry, no, I was not actually driving at the time. We'd just come out of a very small town grocery store with some snacks to see us through our morning adventure.

Yes, I was supposed to be working and she was supposed to be in school. Neither of us were where we should have been that morning....but we were where we needed to be. Away and alone and under threatening darkness with small patches of light shining through. I was looking for more light for her. And some peace.
Once we got to Skykomish, I turned off the highway and just....meandered. It's a postage-sized small town nestled in the Cascade mountains. Alli nodded off once or twice on the way there. I'd taken her cell phone and Ipod from her when we left civilization. I told her it was time to take a day unplugged. She agreed.

Driving from the center of Skykomish we found this overgrown cottage and thought it might be a little too much for a fixer upper and the commute would kill us but dreaming about what we might do to it was fun.

A bit down the road we saw a sign that said Money Creek Park. I turned left and began an ascent that took us further and further from people and abandoned cottages and stress.

We never did find the park. What we find was a road that was two lanes, then one lane and eventually dwindled down to a barely passable lane with a great deal of damage.

We also found this... This must have been Money Creek sans park.

It was beautiful.

Further up we came to a sign that said Lake Elizabeth. Again, no park and no discernible way to get down to the lake but a beautiful and calm lake it was.

Yes, that's snow dusting the evergreens. Twas a bit chilly.

We pressed further onward and upward. I put the suburban into four wheel drive. Alli was once again asleep by this time and missed the part where the road became incredibly difficult and nearly impassable. I found myself talking to myself and the suburban as we jolted and lurched our way through one bad section after another.

She woke up after the jarring parts were over and awoke to see this beautiful place.

We talked. Communicated. Unplugged is good. No distractions. All the background noise and stress was removed and replaced with the gurgling of the creek and sound of wipers brushing falling snow from the windshield.

So no, we weren't where we were supposed to be that day. We ran away and it's ok. Sometimes unplugging, four wheeling and talking is more important than other things. And it lets the light shine more freely through....

I so love my girl.


  1. Lovely. Thanks for sharing your day.

  2. You sound like such a good mom. I'm glad you had a fun day. It's one I'm sure both of you will never forget. ;)

  3. duckgirl10:22 AM

    What a wonderful day of being where you really were meant to be that day! Gorgeous places!


Post a Comment

Go ahead....tell me the truth :)

Popular posts from this blog

A Poem to an Abusive Man

I've been doing a bit of research on abuse, domestic violence and how it usually ends. It's not pretty and it's painful and I hurt every time I read another woman's tale of horror.

Did you know that emotional abuse is as detrimental as physical abuse? And that most emotional abusers continue on to become physical abusers? I didn't. I do now. I found a site where formerly abused women, on the path to recovery from their abusers, have written poems. This one below is one that haunted me.

Thank You

You wooed me with poetry
I bit on the hook
Had I only first read
The name of the book

I would have avoided
The very first page
For pages kept turning
Revealing the rage

The ups were a great high
The ride was a bash
But I rode with my eyes closed
To avoid seeing the crash
I knew it would come soon
But I never knew when
The rage and the leaving
And the path to the end

You had to control things
Determined you would
Emotionally destroying me
Every way that you could

Elderly Abuse

I heard a loud thud the other morning around 3:30 a.m. I checked my monitor but he'd once again turned it to the wall so I was unable to see if he was still in bed. I went downstairs right behind my sweet husband and dad was on the living room floor moaning and holding his head. He'd fallen. Hard.

The first picture is the day of the fall. The second is the day after. The black eye keeps blossoming. He has a gash on his head, hidden by his silver hair and he skinned his shoulder/arm. He's a mess.

Was he using his walker? Nope. 85 year old toddlers cannot be told what to do. Or rather, they can be told what to do, they simply won't comply. Ever. In fact they get down right angry and throw fits. It's not pretty.

His physical therapist came to the house the next day and strongly told him to use his walker EACH TIME HE STOOD UP. Has he? Nope. Nyet. He was very angry with me yesterday because I kept asking him to use his walker. Also, I asked him i…



Back on the horse
Monkey on his back
I see no light
Not even a crack
Back to delusions
Back to the lies
I see through his words
He can't hear my cries

Back into his soul
Back into his veins
The poison he pours
Dark liquid his chains

Backed into a corner
Heartbroken and torn
Back into the needle
The eye of the storm

Back to the wall
Soul bruised torn and broken
Back to my pain
His eyes half open

Back into the horror
Will he ever come back
Back into the nightmare
A needle in a sack

Back into his childhood
I loved him with fury
Looking back on his life
His choices my jury

How did this happen
Back to evil and sin
How can he do this
Lines on his skin

Back to my weeping
Back to my sorrow
My son, my love,
Has no more tomorrows
(all rights reserved)