The Journey - A Letter to My Son

A Journey - Letter to My Son


We ended up going to a park on Lake Norfork, now a mostly secluded place with the tourists all having left for the season. My son Justin, who was 19 at the time, parked his car on the side of the road and we began our journey downward, one flashlight in hand shared between the two of us.

The first part of our hike was easy, following a roughly worn pathway that led to the edge of the bluff. Standing there, looking downward upon what seemed to be the earth's edge, I stated to Justin, "and you want me to go down THAT?" as he proceeded to tell me how much easier it would be than what it appeared. Well, not wanting this kid to get the best of me as I chuckled inside, I followed him, clinging to the rough rocks and boulders, climbing through gnarled tree roots that at times provided our only ladder leading downward, finally arriving at a series of rough hewn "steps" carved in the side of the hill that would have served a giant far better than the average man.

So there I was, scooting in the darkness of the night, lowering myself one large "step" at a time until I finally reached the last ledge that hovered about five to six feet above the waters surface. We had arrived!

As I found my place and settled onto the bluff's edge, I took in the expanse of the lake spreading out before me. There was the distant red and green glow of the lights that lined the two long bridges - one to the east, the other to the west. The opposite shore, its distant lights almost beckoning as if it were another world waiting to be discovered, could be seen,through the darkness of night. The sky above, its darkened clouds reflecting on the water's surface, created the illusion of something floating not far from shore.

As we sat there, almost transfixed by our surroundings, a white mist began to form, hovering just slightly above the water, as my mind began its own journey into wonderful imaginings. The far away lights became those of ships, passing in the darkened night, bringing back memories of sitting along the California coast where oil rigs could be seen off in the distance, their pilings fastened securely to the sand beneath the sea. Fog horns, their sounds almost removed from the world somehow, echoed in the distance, replacing the occasional hum of cars passing on either bridge. I thought of my life - where I had been, where I was now, and where I might be going, and I thought too of the magnificence of God's hand always having been there, guiding me, his arms holding me up when it seemed as if the rest of the world was always there attempting to push me back down. I gazed up again into the sky, my heart on my Creator, and too, my thoughts on my wonderful son whom God had blessed me with. They were both here with me, in this magnificent place, and I could think of nothing more than that moment,that special time - a memory to hold onto forever.

Just as the fog seemed to be blanketing in all around us, almost as if by command, the skies began to clear. A mass of stars, once obscured by darkened clouds, glimmered and danced overhead. Perched there, on what appeared to be the edge of life itself, with all of eternity stretching before me, I could not imagine being anywhere else, and I smiled. In that one small moment I knew once again that I was truly blessed.

Justin and I carried on a long conversation that night, one of which I found myself mostly listening. An exceptionally gifted artist, he often found himself at odds as to what the world expected of him and what he also expected of himself. A whole lifetime lay before him and I listened as his heart reached out to mine. In those precious moments we shared together our lives, our hopes, our dreams, and both of us knew we had been lead to this strange but beautiful State where we now lived. My son and I had embarked on an adventure, but it had begun much earlier than this evening we now shared. For this small slice of time, he and I had managed to escape the real world with its harsh realities that seemed to be lurking out there somewhere, waiting for our return. It must have been several hours that we sat together on that bluff, but for me it seemed far too short a time. As the evening air became colder and our words now long silenced, we decided to begin our assent that would take us back to our beginning - back to the top of the hill.

Following a different path than the one taken before in our journey downward, we clung to the rocks, making our way through the dense undergrowth that forested the bluffs edge. As we searched in the night, our now lifeless flashlight giving way to the stars that had become our only beacon, we finally found the pathway that would lead us back to our beginning. Somehow, though, in those few passing hours, a little bit of life had changed ...
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Now, as I sit here, writing my words as memories to you, Son, I am hoping that you will one day again make a special journey, possibly one day with your own child. When I am long gone and onto a better place, may these thoughts join you once again with me - a wonderful journey through words, the heart, the mind. Hopefully, my dear son, may this one day be another moment truly shared and not simply thoughts making their way to you in the distance of time, of space.

May God bless you always, my precious son, and hold you in his hands, just as He has always held mine..

I love you, son, always and forever ...

Mom