I had planned a blog post about all of the knowledge and
skills I’ve gained during my season as a Conservation Steward, but I felt like
first it was important to share a more personal post about dealing with loss and the
amazing community we have at Bear Brook. This is probably the most personal
post I’ll ever write but it seemed like a good way to share my thoughts with
whoever wants to read it.
(Posting this a couple of weeks after I wrote it)
The Bear Brookers were spread out across the state on
hitches and at different parks when they got that call on that Tuesday night. Everyone
came back to Bear Brook the next morning to join the group of us that had
arrived that night. We then spent an entire week together—crying, laughing,
eating, sleeping, cooking, lounging, walking, remembering, hugging, comforting,
playing games. That week was the most difficult and incredible week of my life.
This month has been similarly tough and magical, and I’m
going to attempt to jot down my stream of consciousness to share with you all
what I’ve felt like and experienced. I’m doing this because I want you all to
know what has been going on, because sometimes it is hard to tell people
individually. It’s also hard to describe this incredible community that I live
in to my friends from elsewhere. I want to give a full picture of the range of
emotions and thoughts that I’ve been having over this month. I want you to know
why it has been so incredible to be here, and I also want you to know where my
brain goes when I’m thinking about that Tuesday night. I think it’s important
for those who I am close with to know what I’ve been feeling. I also know that
I’ve been spotty about telling people that I was the one swimming with Reed
that evening in the river. That’s a very important piece of my story. I haven’t
included every detail, but talking about that night helps me and I’d be happy
to share more with you if you ever want to.
Here are something things that have happened this month, in
semi-chronological order. Moments, thoughts, activities, dreams, feelings.
-The faces and the hands of the rescuers reaching out to us to
help us up the river bank as the sun was setting
-Sitting under the stars together with our site contact from
the park, an hour after they found Reed’s body, waiting for our bosses to
arrive and tell us what to do
-Driving back to Bear brook late that night, stopping at the
KFC/Taco Bell right as it closed but they let us in anyway, stopping to tie
down the damn tarp, stopping to pee in parking lots, stopping for a barf break…
the longest car ride of my life.
-Being so scared to go into the lodge, my home, because it
meant that it was real
-Sleeping for a few hours in the lodge together because we
didn’t want to be alone, watching Wreck It Ralph
-Thinking about Reed when I wake up and when I go to bed
-Laughing hysterically with my Saint-Gaudens crew, the group
that was with Reed that hitch, about a hilarious moment during that horrible
evening
-Wishing we had let Reed become a Junior Ranger when he
finished his booklet, instead of insisting that we all wait to be inducted
together
-Wishing I knew Reed better, despite being on most every
hitch with him
-Hearing the cries and sobs coming from the other side of
the lodge when the last hitch got back on Wednesday morning—unlike any sound
I’ve ever heard
-A couple really nice sessions with the counselor that our
bosses brought in to tell us about grief and to have someone to talk to
-Sitting out back when Reed’s family arrived, nauseous and
terrified to go inside
-When I finally met Reed’s mom and she was wearing the shirt
that Reed got her, and we hugged for a while
-How we all gathered around Reed’s family on that Friday
night, nothing was planned, and then Matt gave Julie the letter that Reed wrote
himself in January. She read it out loud and we laughed and screeched and cried
and my heart was so full.
-How hilarious it was that Reed left himself $50 in his
letter at the beginning of the program
-Walking with his family to the fire at Spruce talking about
farming in Alaska
-Going to temple in Concord on my birthday with Levi and my
mom, and telling those wonderful strangers that we were there because Reed had
died this week
-Making my brain snap out of images that I made up of Reed
floating in the river
-Canoeing on Spruce Pond on my birthday at sunset
-Playing so much Ticket to Ride
-Getting a tattoo of the circle on my birthday
-Spending time at the marsh with Hollie, talking about
anything that popped into our heads
-Being giddily proud of myself for sleeping through the night after 5 days of rough sleep
-Sharing a Whoopie Pie with everyone on the porch and giggling about farts
- Levi and my mom giving me countless back massages because
I tensed up constantly, holding all of my stress in my neck
-When Sarah and Phinn swung by Bear Brook for a glorious
couple hours and I got to show them my life here, and they got to see output
report
-We headed out on hitch on that Thursday, 8 days after we
got back. Feeling so content in the truck on the way to Franconia, feeling the
wind on my face, surrounded by people I love, belting out songs on the radio
-Lying in my tent in the evening of that first day, willing
myself to get out of the tent and participate in a group activity that I had no
desire to do
-Telling the group that sometimes I just didn’t have energy
to give to activities or conversation, that all my energy was going in to basic
functioning
-Receiving the most amazing letters and postcards from
friends, feeling the love pour in from everywhere
-Biking to Profile Lake after work with Calvin
-Spending two days on the roof of the shelter singing songs
and being Roof Gurlz
-When Levi and I spent a few hours just speaking in Spanish
and trying to build complicated angle braces
-The amazing sense of accomplishment we felt after
completing the rain shelter at the Flume
-When we had a huge hitch meet-up in North Conway during Hitch 7 and we played Tiny Trucks in the field!
-Going over that evening, again and again, thinking about
everything that could have been different
-Wondering what the end of the season would have felt like
if this hadn’t happened
-Dreaming about Reed’s mom holding Reed’s body in their
bathroom, and inch of water across the floor and my book, When Women Were
Birds, drenched in that inch of water facedown, and wondering what that could
mean
-Waking up and thinking about the river
-Thinking about the moment when I finally let my guard
down—I had been holding it together for hours, calling 911 and talking with
officers and holding onto hope, and then we finally were alone and I lost it,
then called my mom to tell her what happened
-Throwing a crazy 21st birthday party for Becca,
Beer Olympics themed
-Sitting outside at the flagpole during the party, talking
to Reed, telling him about how much I wished he was here
-Feeling glad that I told Reed how much I appreciated him a
few days before he died
-Not being sure that it is real
-Wishing that everyone had the same images in their head as
I did of how beautiful our campsite was and how calm the river looked
-Trying not to freak out when friends are sitting around
joking about Wilderness First Responder senarios
-Successfully dealing with a real WFR scenario at the Flume,
where there was a success story and I kept calm and did not panic, and how damn
good that felt
-Taking the time to see old friends, visiting Will and
Martha in Connecticut one weekend
-Knowing exactly which rocks would crush the best and discovering that I really love making crush
-Dancing in the parking lot at 5:30 am under the full night
sky on the last morning of hitch because I couldn’t sleep—reveling that this
was my life
-Seeing live music during our day off from hitch
-When Kyle and Ian came to camp with us and we hiked up Kearsarge in the morning in the fog
-Spending time with people here that I hadn’t been as close
with
-Playing the G'Day Bruce game that Maura taught us and almost peeing our pants laughing
-Not knowing how to jump the van even a little bit but totally figuring it out and it totally didn't take us 2 hours
-Watching the sunrise from our lookout point on Mount
Kearsarge on the last morning of hitch with Ray, Chrissie, and Chelsea, singing
Traveller and holding hot water bottles and thinking about how much I
absolutely love living outdoors and never want a job that pulls me away from it
-The jolt my heart makes whenever I think about what
happened
-Hearing/seeing the officer come up to us and say: “We found
your friend Reed, he did drown”
-Thinking about how unable to function I was in the week
after Reed died, how I would try and do something like make lunch and get lost
in the kitchen and have to go lie down.
-Thinking about how much my shock and grief was linked to my
body—the nausea and headaches and exhaustion and fever.
-Gathering the whole group of us down at Spruce Pond for a secret meeting and by total coincidence the full moon rose over the pond and we all watched it
-Getting back to my cabin and having a nice chat with my roomie Natalie that I hadn't properly caught up with in months. She had the fire going in the woodstove and we had a really nice conversation
-Revisiting the beautiful moments before he drowned. The
golden hour of light, he was washing his clothes on the bank and laid them out
to dry and came sprinting into the water to join me. It was a glorious evening
and the water felt so good, and we’d been waiting to swim for a week and we
finally were doing it.
-Plotting thank you gifts for our incredible staff who
seemingly put their grief and lives on hold to figure out the rest of our
program and provide for our every need
-Watching a wild thunderstorm on the porch with a large
group of Bear Brookers, drinking hot chocolate with booze and catching up and spending another quality night together
I’m posting this two weeks after I wrote it. Every week it gets easier to not dwell in thoughts about the river. I’ve been happy for many parts of this time. I’ve been surrounded by wonderful people who knew Reed, we can talk about funny memories we have of him whenever they come up, we can talk about our sadness as well. A lot of times I still can’t believe it’s real, and I have to tell myself that yes, this happened. We have now left the place where we all knew Reed, but that doesn’t change how close our already tight community grew after Reed’s accident. Today I will reunite with a whole crew of Bear Brookers who are passing though DC, and I know we’ll stay connected and reach out when we need each other. I’m looking forward to the times ahead where I embody some of Reed’s spirit and attitude about life. These past 6 weeks have been a whirlwind of action and emotion, but now I can begin to process more fully and reflect on all that I’ve learned from Reed’s passing and from the power of community.
