skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Several weeks ago, my friend Mark quietly slipped away. His unlikely journey started before Christmas: a result of a motorcycle accident that injured his brain. He was 31. For 36 days, I was welcomed into his big, warm, faith based Clan of a family - to cry, to laugh, to talk, to Pray, to eat junk food... Walking through adversity naturally brings people together. Strange how life is deliciously alive while suffering heartache and loss. I have always loved the adage "it takes a village to raise a child" I can also attest to the comfort of a village during tragedy. I have to admit, I knew Mark in a very small slice of his life. We had backpacked together over the past couple of years. For a few hours a day, over several days and many miles of trail, we talked - especially this past year. Talked about marriage and how to work at it, raising kids, finding a path for life, for work, the struggles, frustrations and joys of it all. In between, he would fish... and this past summer, I photographed him doing so. Just two guys following what their heart's told them to do.
Village: There's a ton of Lamberth's. Mark's family is big and full of boys.... add in wives, in-laws along with friends and one needed a program to keep everybody straight. For 36 days, nearly all were there. Staff updates with all of us were held in shifts because the conference room couldn't hold everyone. There was a Prayer blog and Flicker page started that had over 200,000 hits within a month (link). Mark worked at Mission Hospital in Orthopedics. Administration at Mission all but demanded him from the county hospital he was first taken to (they air lifted him two days later).
Co-workers of both Mark and his wife Angie donated 100's of vacation hours allowing her to be there nonstop. The teddy bear from 3rd floor that Mark modified to help kids understand how a cast works. His boss, who insisted on being the official MD to shut the machines down.
My small part came from pictures I had taken last year. Early on, I made several large prints for his room - to remind us all what we were working towards. Then the pictures became a window view of who he was, an experienced mountaineer who loved the High Sierra. Mark and Angie have a young son Nolan - who no doubt will hear 100's of tales (some of them tall) from his Mom and various Uncle's about who his father was. I'm glad to know a few of my images will be there to help.
I woke this morning to the sound of steady rain. Living here in Southern California, it's a welcome feeling. My mind wandered to the nearby hillsides that recently burned and how quickly from the ash, life will start to grow. My next thought was the nearby Sierra high country that Mark loves so much. There in the alpine air, winter has clearly arrived. Rain here means snow there - deep and pure white. Bears fat with berries and trees drunk with sunshine are settling in as the Mountain nods to sleep. All will be quiet now.
The Mountain does not fear Winter. Warmth and Spring will once again come to melt the drifts, expose the rocks and fill the rivers with spectacular power. Then as before, the trail will lay waiting to guide Mark on his next adventure - and the Mountain will smile.
Mark is a friend from Backpacking in the Sierra. He has a warm heart, a comfortable smile and an endless sense of adventure. First day out this year, we're about an hour into the hike on a dusty trail. I'm just settling into the weight and altitude - my mind is focused on the 10 miles and 2000 ft of elevation we plan that day. First river we get to, He yells "lets go swimming", drops his pack and boots and jumps in the icy flow clothes and all. Yes, I followed him in and it felt amazing. I was reminded at that moment that the destination is not ahead - it's right here. Unfortunately, Mark shared the lesson this week all over again. A significant accident has left him on the edge of life. My heart goes out to him, his wife Angie and their son Nolan.