A Grief Story
This is another grief story. Today I head to Marathon, Texas for a small music festival, the aptly named Marathon Songwriter’s Festival. My first trip was in 2021 at the strong insistence of a couple, Rod and Sandi Mueller, who arranged for my ticket and arranged for a place to stay. I had no idea what to expect and being as it was only a year after my wife’s death, I’m not real sure I cared. But what I got was life saving in more ways than one.
The first thing that happened was music. On the night I arrived, at the home rented by Rob McDonald, we got out our guitars and played. And we did it nearly every night I was there. It was wonderful, and I was nervous, but the listeners listened, and the music flowed, and I haven’t stopped since. The second thing to occur was an invitation from David Pagan to join him on a day trip into Big Bend. I’d never been. Off we went. As we traveled, David explained how he’d bought a new travel trailer and started hiking. He wanted to know if I’d like to go with him. I did. And since then, we’ve been to Big Bend and the Guadalupe Mountains, hiked their trails, and went to the top of Texas together.
It was the evening after that trip to Guadalupe Peak this past November, exhausted and exhilarated, when I felt the feeling that said I was entering a new era in my life, what I called my Guadalupian Period. It wasn’t that my grieving was over, I still miss my wife, but I simply felt I was in a new place, at peace, and it was a good place, with new friends, and I was going to carry on. And now here I am, going back to where it started, to play music, listen to music, walk in Big Bend, swim in the waters of Balmorhea, and bask in the warm embrace of friends who helped carry me through the dark days.