Monday, October 18, 2010

This One's for You


It’s about time I talked about something. Last night marked the two month anniversary, and each day more and more of my thoughts revolve around what happened on the first Wednesday of May. On that evening of Cinco de Mayo, amidst the preparations of fajitas and margaritas, I got a phone call, and that call brought me tumbling down from the high of life that I am constantly riding on. Tim was gone. Not gone on a climbing trip, not in the hospital, not sick, not at home with an IV, but really, really gone. Like no more climbing trips, no more laughs, no more talks on the phone, no more visits at the gym, no more story telling, no more advice, no more love, no more fights- that kind of gone.
Tim in Smith Rock
I talked to Tim on the phone on Monday. He was in the Bay, and I was in San Luis Obispo. We had been talking about a climbing trip the following weekend. He wanted to go to Gold Wall, I wanted him to come somewhere closer to me so I wouldn’t have to drive so far. We talked while I walked my dog Titan, and it was later that day that I would adopt Star. I had to cut our conversation short to study (unsuccessfully) for a midterm. Later that night, Tim called me back but I miss the call because I was at SLO Op, our climbing gym, and didn’t hear the phone ring. Tim went to sleep that night, and never woke up.
I’m not going to mope, because I’m not into depression. But I do think it’s important to deal with emotions, and the reason I’m choosing to deal with mine here is because Tim was my climbing partner for the past five years and he taught me a lot of valuable lessons that I want to share with you. Tim and I were together for three years and during that time he enlightened me about love, played a large part in my addiction to climbing, and showed me a thing or two about life. These are a few of the things he taught me:
Tim climbing in Thailand
1. Love unconditionally. Tim loved everyone. He would never talk bad about anyone, he would never exclude anyone and he was genuinely interested in every person that he met. This would sometimes bother me because we literally couldn’t go anywhere without running into someone he knew and having a thirty minute conversation with them. However, it became abundantly clear that love was a driving factor in Tim’s life. It’s what moved him, it’s what got him through the day. A life without love is not one worth living.
Tim at Lover's Leap
2. Do what you love. Going along with loving one another, it is important to pursue those things that you are passionate about. Tim loved climbing. So that’s what we did together. We went on climbing trips, we worked at a climbing gym, we traveled to other cities, states and countries to climb. Because our time on earth is finite, it seems to me as it seemed to Tim, that the wisest way to spend it was doing things that make you happy.
Rest day at Smith Rock
3. Do not take what you have for granted- cherish it, appreciate it, take advantage of it. Tim was diagnosed with Cystic Fibrosis at age 5. At that time, the average life expectancy wasn’t too hot. Tim knew that every day of health was a gift and he chose to live it out. Spontaneity was the way we rolled, making spur of the moment decisions to go on adventures. I am so grateful to be blessed with health and an able body and I plan to use it now while I have it.
4. Laugh. Just do it… it feels good ☺
Living here in Tahoe brings back a lot of memories of Tim. Our first camping trip was to Lover’s Leap. He taught me to rappel at 90 foot wall. He took me bouldering at Bliss and sport climbing at Mayhem. We spent 4th of July at Donner, climbing granite and watching fireworks over the lake. I can’t go out and climb without thinking of him, and sometimes it makes me sad, but it also makes me immensely grateful for what I have, for the time that I got to spend with him, and to be able to live a life that he would have wanted for himself. So Tim, this one is for you. Here is to the time we spent together, the fabulous time you spent here on this amazing earth, the lives you touched, and to your spirit living on with me every time I climb. I love you always and forever. RIP

No comments:

Post a Comment