To be honest, I didn't really want to go to a hot springs. In the UNITED STATES??? We just finished summer! But, I'm unfortunately afflicted by that bug of can't not doing something at least once so I can determine whether it's worth doing again. So Francois was able to get a Friday free and we decided to head on to McCall and stop by Gold Forks Hot Springs on the way.
So we lazily and slowly made our way to McCall on one epic Friday. State Highway 55 is gorgeous, by the way, but I'm onto the secret of Idaho-ans (how do you say people from Idaho exactly? Someone tell me). Idaho is gorgeous and beautiful and super underrated. I can't begin to explain what it feels like driving on a (great and super smooth!!) road through any of the mountains in Idaho. Especially as the sun sets and the light plays over the mountains, lighting some areas golden and shading some places dark green. Now that it's autumn, it has gotten even more beautiful, with trees alternating between beautiful green and bright yellow.
I am not a huge fan of couple selfies. I can't imagine people wanting to see my face cheesily posing with my boyfriend. But I do take them so I can keep little mementos of special moments in life.
And sometimes I post them because how can you not look at this gold?
After living with my Lola for the last five years, through my brief year in law school through multiple work trips and emergencies, I was beginning to think she was going to last through some of the major milestones in her grandchildren's lives. Even being stricken with pneumonia, being diagnosed with Parkinson's and just all the ailments that come with age, my grandmother was a strong woman.
After a few weeks in the United States, I heard the tough news from my sister that my grandmother had suffered a stroke. My heart sank at the news because I knew she was tired. She was pretty old and had lived an incredibly packed life. She'd outlived so many of her peers. But somehow, I think we all knew it was heading towards the end of her story.
Sure enough, a week later, the morning after they brought her home to rest in her own bed, my Lola passed in the early hours of the morning.
It was tough. After living with Lola for so long, I knew that I wanted to be around when she passed. But somehow my first long trip abroad, that's when she went. It's tough because I didn't get a chance to really talk to her before she left us. But it's not about me and she was able to get all but one of her nine kids with her in the Philippines before she passed. And that is pretty amazing.
I knew I loved Lola a lot but I don't think I realized how much more I did until after she passed. And so to say a proper goodbye, here's a little eulogy I wrote for her.
When you break up a long term relationship, no one really tells you that you'll feel a little less yourself. Like somehow you were a bigger person than you were and then the break-up cleaves you in two and you're left with your arm around an imaginary shoulder that's no longer there. Everything feels emptier, not just your heart, but everything; from your head to your body to the space you feel you occupy in the world. In your head, the subjects you used to talk about with him and only him just float along your mind because you can't bounce it off him any longer, until they pop soundlessly like thought bubbles of conversation no one but you is ever really going to hear now. You used to feel a little bit bigger in the world and maybe it was the security or the confidence of that relationship but when you could be alone and walk around the world, you were still a little bigger in the knowledge that you had someone waiting for you. And now it's just you. The death of a long term relationship makes you feel like you step lighter and more soundlessly in the world but who would really care now? It's just you. No one will really hear that step but you.
And your heart. People die of a broken heart and you used to think that was romantic bull but then you realize that there is an all too real ache and pain somewhere in your chest cavity that you could have sworn was your heart but really can't be because that's seriously all just empty space now (there can't be anything there, you just feel empty). The death of a long term relationship feels like if you did still have a heart, there's a gaping hole carved right out of it that you don't know how you can fill again. And maybe you never really do, because every love is different and no love is the same and no person can change you like another person can.
Abbi is a petite human, blogger, amateur photographer, permanent humanitarian, avid traveller, culture addict, giant bookworm and impossible foodie.