I’ve not wanted to write these past days. Someone I never met, but someone who touched me with her words passed away while I was busy with my life. For those of you who followed Penny’s posts, likely you also know her car hit a tree while attempting to get out of the way of a speeding car driving in the wrong lane.
Some years ago, in a sappy movie I watched with a once-upon dear friend, a distraught wife spoke about everyone needing a witness to their own life. The rest of the movie escapes me (did Richard Gere get what he wanted in the end or not?), but the notion of witnesses to our own lives has stayed with me.
In this photo, we are standing at a viewing point set aside by the State of Wyoming. You can see the storm approaching — one of the few times I’ve seen the Sunlight Basin unlit during the day. I stood here a few years ago, listening to a once-upon dear friend reveal himself to me. What he said and why he shared a certain sorrow with me is an aside to how I still feel to this day about being a witness to his life.
With Penny’s passing, I’ve been thinking about revisiting the Sunlight Basin. I’d like to stand at that viewing point again, think about what I’ve witnessed thusfar in my life (am I listening as closely as I can?), and think more about those who have been my witness. The day this notion came to me, I received a bottle cap message in the mail from a friend who knows me before I sometimes know myself.
“The bad news is that there is no key to the universe. The good news is that there is no lock.”