The Siren Song of the Marmoset & Other Adventures as of Late

“MREEAK!” A sound like that of fingernails grinding across a chalkboard deafens my hearing. “Mreeeeak-mreeak!” It comes again, this time with a howl like a child being tortured. My eyes dart across the valley, crazily scanning for the origin of the noise. Ken turns to me and we realize that the shrieking is coming from a marmoset off in the distance. He’s on a large granite boulder, perched roughly 75 feet away from us. And he’s calling to us.

Gracie, my in-laws’ black and white Border Collie, instantly leaps forward in the direction of the marmoset. She’s ready to charge the wild creature. After pouncing through the knee-high brush, she’s at its rock.

But then it’s gone.

A cacophony of screeches ensues, some 40 to 50 feet away, now from different boulders. Gracie runs after the marmoset, indifferent to their changing directions. She loves to hunt. Meanwhile, Ken and I follow, happily chasing after her in pursuit of the marmoset.

This was last Saturday, as the three of us hiked through Archangel Valley near the now nationally recognized town of Wasilla, Alaska. It was my first time venturing down the bumpy, two-mile dirt road leading to this trail, within Hatcher’s Pass. Ken excitedly planned this ‘maiden hike’ for us, in hopes of helping me train for the much more involved 8-hour hike to the crashed B-52 Bomber Plane perched atop a glacier farther along the trail. The hike was wonderful, and a great starting place for me. I enjoyed basking in the verdant mountain landscape while breathing in the crisp 50-degree weather. Likewise, the abandoned mining buildings scattered along our path intrigued me. So much history happened here, I thought to myself, as I walked through the rubble, alongside a rain-swelled creek. I imagined gold miners panning for gold in those waters and digging beneath the surface for the smallest glimmer. And then there were the marmoset, those cat-sized animals scattering across rocks and among shrubs. I felt like we were on an adventure, transported back in time, to a rugged place in history.

In pursuing the marmoset, we quickly lost sight of the main trail and eagerly climbed boulders in the direction Gracie ran. Exhausted from the chase, I sat down on a rock ledge overlooking the valley, where we unpacked our sandwiches and snacks and enjoyed a late lunch. We never made it to the first set of lakes on our journey, our original goal, because we followed the siren call of the marmoset. Although it was a delightful detour, hopefully next time we’ll evade their captivating cries.

Along with our hiking adventures, Ken and I are learning to appreciate the ‘simpler’ aspects of living in a more rural community. Ken’s parents boast a lovely vegetable and fruit garden right outside their front door where we can harvest fresh potatoes, kale, broccoli, and cauliflower for soups, stews, and side dishes. Also, their woodsy and windy street is perfect for wildlife sightings. A year ago, I spotted a moose right in their front yard. More recently, Ken and I came across a beautiful red fox perched along a bank near their property. The majestic creature held a regal stance, as she watched us pass by her early one evening. We endearingly nicknamed her, “The Guardian,” and from time to time, question where The Guardian might be as we weave up or down our road. We live in a marvelous place, ideal for imaginations such as mine.

It’s been a month now since we drove up the Alcan and settled just outside of Anchorage. I’m adjusting to the change in climate, and the heaviness I feel from missing my dear friends in Seattle and scattered throughout Washington, Oregon, and California, is slowly lifting. Honestly, it’s very difficult to now live so far from my closest friends and away from the amenities of city living, and yet, I’m finding glimpses of joy in ways that I’ve never known before. Alaska has a sort of savage splendor to it. A wildly untamed state bold in its assertion of natural beauty. A diamond in the rough, or if I may say so, a nugget of gold pulled from a rocky mountain stream.

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Here are some photos from our recent adventures!
Click on each to enlarge.

A Slice of Rhubarb Cake: Contemplations on Loss & Living Faithfully

Three bites worth.
That's the amount of crumbly oatmeal-flour cake, with its moist chunks of rhubarb hidden beneath the golden fluff, I have left on my dessert plate. All of a sudden a wave of remorse overtakes me; I wish that I had eaten my cake slower. I'll have to savor every last bite.

I feel that way right now, as I recall the day's events and ponder what the future will look like for myself, my husband and his family. One of Ken's grandmas is at the hospital and we are unsure as to when she'll be able to return to home, let alone her current state of health. It's a tough situation. Today, upon visiting grandma at the medical center, I felt mixed emotions as I walked through the brightly-lit corridor leading to her room. The hospital where she's staying is so peaceful and welcoming. Likewise, there are Bible verses and references scattered throughout the hallways and waiting areas. I remember being in a place like this one in the not-too-distant past. However, the hospital where I spent my time was not located in Alaska--it was back on Maui. And there were no Bible references to comfort me while waiting in the lobby. The smells of Maui's main health center were quite different than the well-ventilated, fresh scent of the hospital where I spent this morning.

It's crazy how experiences in our everyday can trigger memories from the past. Maybe this is something unique to me. I have always been commended on my ability to recall past events with prolific detail but I don't usually feel that my ability is such a gift. Today included moments like that. Moments when I was transported to a place and a time that felt incredibly real, in its emotion and experience.

All of a sudden, I am back in the Intensive Care Unit at the Maui Memorial Hospital, sitting beside my 74-year-old grandma, watching her body deteriorate--her lungs had collapsed after filling with fluid and she was literally being pumped with oxygen through a breathing machine. My right hand strokes her soft gray hair, as she rests peacefully in a half-propped position. She's in a coma right now and I'm not sure if she can hear me, but I start reading to her anyway. I have some Bible verses that I brought, along with a wealth of stories from my day at work. Grandma loved hearing my stories, I would think, as I now shared them without any type of acknowledgment on her part. I clasp her warm hand and hold it steadily as I whisper into her ear that I'll be back again soon. I love you, Grandma. 

And now I'm back. I realize that I'm not on the little island in the middle of the Pacific Ocean that I called home for so long. I'm actually in the rugged, mountain-strewn state of Alaska. I'm also not sitting with my grandma who is dying of emphysema. I'm with Ken's grandma, and she is awake and coherent, able to respond to my stories and recognize who I am. This is a different situation, although it brings up memories that I had tried to bury so deep.

It's hard watching loved ones suffer and experience pain. I wish that God didn't allow us to walk through such things and yet I believe that one day, perhaps in Heaven, it will all make sense. For now, I can only trust that He is good and place my hope in Him. I still miss my Grandma every day. The hardest part, I think for me, is not being able to talk to her. She had such a funny sense of humor--her Bronx, New York upbringing added to her candor. Quick-witted and extremely wise, Grandma provided a sense of stability in my life. When she died, it took so long for my grief to subside. I still carry with me the invisible wounds of having lost someone so dear.

My emotions are fresh, my pain laid bare before me. As I spent time with Ken's grandma today, I thought back to all the times I have been blessed to walk with people through seasons of suffering: as a Stephen Minister (lay counselor), a Memorial Service Coordinator, and also in just being available for people I've met along life's journey. It's so hard to watch people hurting, but I am thankful for the way it pushes me to see beyond this life, into the hope of what's to come.

So, here we are, now living in Alaska, and pressing into Christ for hope as we walk with family members through the aging process. I am confident that God has us here for a reason. In response to my constant questioning, I've heard Him whisper in my ear, "for such a time as this" (from the story of Esther). I want to be faithful to that calling. Six years ago, if I hadn't moved home to Maui following college, I would have missed the opportunity to walk my grandma from this life into the next. Instead, I answered God's prompt. I'm amazed at what God has brought my husband and me through these past few years of marriage, and I am confident that He will continue to meet our every need.

Whirlwind Wedding Week in San Diego!

My best friend is now married!
[Cue Applause]

Ken and I just returned from San Diego, Calif., where we spent the past few days celebrating with one of my best friends, along with her family and friends, this entry into a new season as a married woman. It was incredible! I had the privilege of serving as Matron of Honor and loved every minute of it. As a wedding planner, I am typically in charge of coordinating all the ceremony and reception details and miss out on just being able to relax and enjoy the party--let alone give a speech! It was such a blessing to offer my friendship and encouragement in a more personal way this time.

Every part of my friend's wedding was superbly executed, from the lovely outdoor ceremony location overlooking the marina to the warm, soft mini lights encased in sheer white fabric lining the wood walls in the reception hall. My friend and her now husband had their hand in every detail. For instance, their table centerpieces were manzanita branches they collected themselves, then painted white. With tact and an eye for design, they then hung glass beads with string from various branches, set in place with a rustic burlap cover. The table numbers, escort cards, and seating arrangements added to the 'rustic-chic-meets-refined-elegance' atmosphere. I'm so impressed at their creativity! The wedding was stunning.

Here are some of my favorite photos from the wedding:
(Click on each photo to enlarge.)

As the Matron of Honor, I also had the honor of helping with the pre-wedding festivities. Here are some photos of the Bachelorette Party, which began at a restaurant downtown and then finished back at our Bridal Party Suite. Enjoy!

Cheers to the happy couple!!