A mile seems much longer when you have an extra 40 lbs on your back and a slight rocky incline. The hike to release some of Donavin’s ashes was definitely a healing process. The hike itself almost seemed to symbolize the journey. Anticipation, looking forward to the beauty of it all. Resistance, the slight incline, the bumpy path…the burning in my legs. Fear, will I be able to get there? Will I be able to let go when I do? A heavy weight…Addy, but the weight of know I had to do something I was not wanting to do. It was hard, I was sweating, but I didn’t stop for long. Then we got to the falls. It was cool and refreshing, with a cloudy haze everywhere. We made it but there was still the daunting task we set out to do. Although, I think we both knew we had to do it. We never committed to do it. We brought Donavin along “just in case.” We decided we wanted to. He was supposed to be there with us. So he was. Surrounded by the beauty of God’s creations we tried to summon up the courage. The tears built up as I took in my surroundings. Slowly becoming more attached to that place then I had ever imagined. I would leave a part of my son there. It would forever be a part of me. Time was ticking away. Stupid time, always forcing us to move forward. We decided to get on the other side of the railing and stand next to this huge tree. The thought was that just Dustin and I would do it, last-minute we decided Addy should be a part of it. The ashes in my hand, I wanted nothing more than to tighten my grip. Never let go. Consume myself with the only physical being I had left of my dear Donavin. I cried. I prayed. I let go. I watched my son become one with the air, the water, the land surrounding us. We held each other and cried. It was time to return. The returning venture was a little easier. A little lighter. With one big hill at the end. The weight of what we had to do was gone, It was still hard to leave it behind.