Treading lightly the path to enlightenment.

The River Dark And Deep

Life flows, and carries us as a river does. We set sail as all those before us. Most days we see sun and smooth waters. We fill our canoes and we raft them together, hand in hand through our brightest stretches. There are embraces and laughter, merriment and fellowship, achievement and adventure. Love buoys us.

Our flotilla numbered seven until the tempest of 1999. The year we learned the power and unpredictable nature of the river. It is an ancient power that follows timeless and undeniable laws. It flows without conscious will or reason. Without conscience or mercy.

It cannot be stopped by one man or ten men. We float away from all our upriver days despite or against our strongest will. The faces recede, yet their voices continue to dance on the surface, to eddy and gather all around us as new vistas approach.

For a few million years, the great Niagara River was triple the size it was when first viewed by man. A great seismic rift broke the very river bed with one world-changing upheaval known as The Niagara Escarpment. It’s orphan has been our neighbor all of our lives; The Mighty Mohawk River. The Saint Lawrence Seaway now takes the rest and bears it to the fertile ocean to begin its circle of life anew.

She heard the effervescent whisper of the falls before I did. But it’s so far down river, can’t we enjoy the ride for now? In denial, I had to see the mist to believe it. The night fell, and the haunting roar could not be ignored. And so we tumbled blindly and helplessly over the edge of that escarpment, just six tiny souls and their hangers-on, wide-eyed and white-knuckled beneath a million gallons of water, into the abyss.

My wife, the mother of our five grown children, left us quietly on December 14th, 2020, at the age of 64. She fought a brave battle against more than one formidable foe, and has laid her burden down after this final fight with lung disease. We had celebrated our thirty-ninth anniversary on September 11th.

And now a month hence the river continues to carry me. We band together now those closest and dearest, we fellow survivors. We will support and cherish one another through this deep and dark stretch of our river. We will reassure one another that our courses will again be calm and clear one day. We’ll laugh again.

Take care my friends, and I’ll see you soon.

Downriver.

Paz

Us, Niagara Falls, 1990

One of my favorite photos of my wife. That’s the Niagara River.

Comments on: "The River Dark And Deep" (14)

  1. I am so sorry to learn of the loss of your wife, Paz. My heart goes out to you and your family.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Oh, my Dear, my Heart goes out to you. I hold that vision of you and your family, still Spiritually whole and complete, enfolded by the Light, resting in the peace and comfort of the Infinite Love of Source. From my HEART to your Heart in Love, Betty💞

    Liked by 1 person

  3. My sincere condolences, Paz.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. oh how my heart saddened at this-though I knew what stretch of the river, you were on. How feeble words are at such a time . . .I wish this were not so. I had no idea that you had five children-as I do! I know they are an extra special solace. I wish you all healing and comfort in that she had your love, devotion and precious companionship, throughout the course .

    Liked by 1 person

    • Thanks for your special thoughts. I, too, have always found words to be inadequate at times
      There are shared silences, however, that are perhaps more meaningful, and to the point.
      I had thought we discovered the five-children commonality in the past. Now we share the mantle of being their only parent, though your course was without a doubt many times more difficult with young children. Mine have almost literally carried me through this.
      Friends and family are life’s greatest treasures, and I count you among them.

      All my best,

      Scott

      Like

  5. I am so sorry for your loss. I take great comfort in the words of St. John Chrysostom, “Those whom we love and lose are no longer where they were before. They are now wherever we are.”

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Paz, I am so very sorry for your loss. I wish you and your family peace as you journey on, your river now changed.
    Ellen

    Liked by 1 person

  7. Good morning friend-I have tried sending you an email, but unsuccessfully. My son seems to think the problem is something with your email address. I received yours, but can not send my reply. Please let me know if I am wrong about this. Thank you and best wishes, Michele

    Liked by 1 person

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