Those 70ish Girls

When You Honor Your Lover and Best Friend by Valerie Halla

The summer July day this year dawned sunny and warm. Perfect. My kids and I planned to take Ken’s ashes -accompanied by some friends and family – with us up to the top of a nearby mountain peak. We have lived nearby for 39 years. Ken had always liked the place and often came up to the top of the peak which exuded peace and tranquility.

It would be a memorial and a final goodbye. Nine of us drove in three cars about 30 minutes outside town up to a well know campground, famous peak and short hike up to a 360 degree view of the Pacific Ocean, Salinas, San Juan Bautista and Hollister and the nearby mountain range. Everyone slathered themselves with sunscreen, grabbed their water bottles and visited the outhouses then started the hike up through, oak, maple and madrone trees, thick chaparral and even thicker poison oak.

When you get to the first part, almost to the top of the peak with less vegetation, you breathe in deeply and your eyes adjust to the intensity of the view, in all directions a wide all-encompassing view that makes you feel on top of life’s beauty in that moment, in that place, in this godly place, in that experience while taking it all in. “Incredible” doesn’t capture it but comes close.

Ken’s brother, his wife and oldest daughter came from San Jose. Our oldest son and his friend had driven up from LA and our other son had come from San Francisco after teaching the day before, and our daughter flew in from Portland, OR and rented a car to drive here. She did it all in one day, leaving their two little kids with her husband. Our friend of many years arrived from Santa Cruz loaded down with bags of food, a cocktail shaker and booze and fresh lemons. I was delighted this group had assembled to honor and celebrate Ken, my husband of 53 years, but also my long ago ignored high school acquaintance, occasional meetup in college and someone whom falling in love with in my early 20’s had been divine, a gift, a joyous memory in life.

We all chatted then left for the mountain top. We found a place to gather and admire the views near the top. We took many pictures and I stayed away from the highest part on a rocky narrow trail while the others hiked to the top. The trail skirted immense slides and steep slopes. One poorly taken step would kill you in the fall. We were up high to say the least; we were at the edge of a 3,169 foot tall mountain in the Gabilan Range. The group left a couple of us to rest as they ascended to the summit. They were on their own communing with nature, the mountain and Ken’s spirit. They returned to where we two were and we nine descended together

We left feeling fulfilled and filled full of emotion and love.

We came home and ate some Polish dishes Ken used to fix. Our one son prepared traditional food, my sister in law made grilled asparagus and set up snacks while we waited for Polish sausage to boil, also we had pierogis and everyone contributed a dish. Our daughter made sour cream cucumbers with dill and our son had made Pierogis, our good friend, (whose Dad was Ken’s good friend), made salad. After we had eaten and had my pies for dessert, and all had relayed old stories and memories of Ken, our friend made some margaritas with fresh squeezed juice, tequila, Grand Marnier and coarse salt. Then we toasted our shared love, our father, our brother and brother- in-law, our uncle, our friend, and my husband.

You would’ve liked today, my angel. Thank you, pal. Thank you for all you gave me. The day had gone as needed, your day. It was a perfect day, with the perfect ending.

Love to you and to your memory.