The chapter aptly called The End of Petrol is a real tearjerker. But I'll let you find that out for yourself.
The reason I am writing this post is because of the last three sentences in the book. Many people helped Philip and his wife Erin build their house on Tunket Road. Kellen and I were two of those people. We helped with a variety of tasks from chopping wood to dawning our harnesses and dangling from ropes while putting the siding on. They were wonderful times and they are some of my fondest memories of my time with Kellen. Kellen and I, and others, are mentioned in the book and this made me feel wonderful that his name and spirit is in print, but Philip went further.
Up Tunket Road was published soon after Kellen died and Philip, being the thoughtful and amazing person he is ended his book with the below words and they touched me so deeply that I wanted everyone a chance to read them. The book ends with an acknowledgments section. I almost didn't read it, but I thought, "I probably know a lot of the people he is going to mention, I should read this" I was right, and I found this as it's last paragraph:
"Finally, numerous students and alumni helped us construct our dreams. Unfortunately, we recently lost one to a tragic avalanche. Kellen, the vestiges of your craftsmanship here remind us why it's so important to lead a spirited life among friends and amid nature's wonders, with a lurking chance of mischief hiding in the shadowed edges on any given moment."
Up Tunket Road illustrates Philip's ability to write poetically about many aspects of live. He has a beautiful ability to capture the spirit of any given moment or person. As in this case, he has done so with Kellen.
Below is a photo I took of Kellen and Philip's son Asa. Ever since taking it, I have felt it captured what Philip wanted his land to be. A place for friends, family and nature to come together and be happy.
Kellen, everyone loved and followed you.
I have a comment. It is more of a confession. I have never told this to anyone before. I don't know how to craft it, and on my best day, I will never achieve the beauty and eloquence shown by Phillip. I will try anyway. That's basically been my philosophy with rock climbing as well; of which I can use Kellen as my example. Those that have rocked climbed with me know I suck. I still try. I never have the eloquence or beauty that Kellen had, probably never will, but that's no reason not to go. That is not my confession; that was my digression.
ReplyDeleteI sometimes fantasize about my life and what I would like it to look like, feel like. Who have I been? What kind of person am I? What kind of person will I be? What kind of Friend? Lover? Son? Brother? Citizen? How do I define myself? How do I measure myself? I sometimes have to correct this inner monologue from it's disfuction; it's sickness.
I sometimes look at other people living their lives and say: "I respect that. I want to live more like her." or "That looks like a fulfilling lifestyle. Maybe I will make more choices like that." Sometimes they are small choices like a shirt, and sometimes they are a little bigger, like deciding to move to Africa. The motivations for my decisions are often hard to understand and identify. I sometimes lack the intention of thought and the self-honesty. Even the courage to ask why? It's easier if I don't. I just go through the majority of my day unaware of why I choice to say the things I say and do the things I do. I lack intention.
My last confession is that Kellen is one of those people I use to help guide my life. Even is death. A person for whom I would say: "Ah, look what they're up to. I think I might try to follow that path and have a life like that. It looks fulfilling." And who among us isn't, at some point, looking for more fulfillment in life? In the rare moments of honesty with myself, I can identify the discontent I feel and why.
Phillip, and his wonderful family, is another "hero" of my fantasies. "If I could live like that, I might be happier." I respect Phillip and his values. I would like to live more like him.
I am happy, and I hope that I continue to be. If the feeling of discontent sneaks up again, I will look to my "heroes", often my friends and family, to help guide me. Thank you for what you have done for me, and thank you in advance for what you will help me with in the future.