last Munro

He woke up at 5am, bleary-eyed. He made his way to the kitchen and started the day with his usual morning coffee. Just the smell of that brew brought back so many memories, memories of her that were never far away but especially today's coffee. Today he hoped he would be able to finally say goodbye. 

As he sips the coffee slowly, bringing him back to life, he remembers their first date. It was planned to be over breakfast, he had dreaded the idea but she made him love it, and so they got to spend the whole day together. She was an early bird always seizing the day, an inspiration really, so different from him.

This morning was different, absent of any life, gray at best. The coffee has little effect, bitter and functional nothing more. He picks up the bag he had packed the night before and the single worn journal they had made together,” this is going to be rough” he thinks as he carefully pocketed the book and heads out the door. A stark contrast to how they used to start these adventures. They generally started at the same time but we're a lot more chaotic and colorful. with her wrestling a library of papers that would cover the kitchen, all kinds of maps and calendars, hiking guides, and their precious journal all stuffed into several bags. These journeys were always a thing of pride and joy to her. As he steps out into the early morning he looks up at the darkened sky and the rain hits his face. It just serves as a reminder of another day without her.  

But today he has resolved to move on. As he starts the car, he decides that today he will finally finish the list that they had made so long ago. He remembered making that list and how she was so excited to have something to help distract her from the cruel and uncaring world. As he drives along the twisting single-track roads his thoughts are always on her." where did the time go?" she should still have had months left. 

When he had brought her the idea of Munro bagging, she jumped on it. She made a list of Munros for them to complete within the time they were given. She made it her own adventure with all these extra rules. originally they were just about picking and pressing flowers, to help document each journey, but the rules became so much more. They were a reflection of her way of life, and She was so excited to complete this list with him, to leave a legacy of some kind, deliberately picking Aonach Beag as the last Munro because of the numbers or something like that. Life was always a game with her,  he missed that, such a fun and bright attitude nothing ever got her down. The rules got a bit intense sometimes though constantly adding and taking them away, always trying to give guidance and then saying” there are too many rules in life as it is “and “these are things you can only really find out for yourself”. Most of the rules didn't stick because she was searching for the perfect list. the good ones survived though she even wrote them down in the front of the journal for her “life lessons''. The hardest one to appreciate is the reason why he is here now, as he got out of the car at the foot of the mountain before the sun.

“Start early”.  The second rule, the first rule is “ make a new rule and break it” as to accept we are human but he is here now because it is early.  As he clicks on the head touch and heads out along the path, he remembers breaking the starting early rule. Although he did enjoy sleeping in, the waiting had made her anxious, the rest of the day's timings were all off and on top of that, they got lost on the way home. It had been one of the longest and most frustrating days they had been through together. They were both tired and hungry by the end of it. she would go on about swallowing a toad or something, and she would power phase different books by saying “ It might suck, but thinking about how much it sucks just makes it suck more” patience was not her strong suit and  So from then on they would get up before dawn to give themselves as much time as they could. Today sucks without her. he felt like he's always on edge after her passing. She has a way of making even the worst of times a fun game. Today doesn't feel like a game, it never did anymore. It just reminded him of how much he misses her, when he was at his worst, she was always at her best. This downward spiral of thoughts is interrupted by the crunch of gravel someone he couldn't see yet is heading this way. And then he remembers the next rule

  “You had to have made a meaningful connection with another hiker”

  one of the first rules that truly stuck and one she was most proud of.” life is all about connections” she used to say.  Best to get this out the way early he thinks. “you never know when you will meet the right people” she would often comment. 

He recalled that  She found breaking this rule particularly difficult. The struggle she went through as they had to “ just walk past” this elderly couple. It was too much for her and so she had to run back to say hi. As it turns out we're part of some sort of mountain facebook club that she immediately joined and kept in touch with, they even paid respects not too long ago, so many people miss her. This Morning he wishes he was alone. It's dark and raining heavily, a truly miserable morning anyone out here would want to be elsewhere. But hear approaching him is a wether old farmer. looking as miserable as he felt, he makes eye contact. “ Smile” he  hears her whisper,  but only manages a half-smile and then grunts out a nod as they pass.  the best he can muster today, the farmer gives the same nod and grunt back which causes him to recall an observation she made .” People generally mirror each other because we're all the same deep down, so if you give out positivity you get it back” She would often accompany this with a wink and a playful shove. This memory makes the half-smile stick to his face as he climbs to the foot of the mountain where the first rays of sunlight greet him breaking through the heavy rain clouds in a similar'' half-smile'' way. As the clouds  reveal the world around him, the next rule comes to mind

“name the mountains that watch over the flowers”.

  As he rises with the sun up the side of the mountain he takes in the view. It is beautiful in its own moody way, and so he can't help but compare her, and her beauty. The way she affected everyone around her, always bringing out their light, she was fascinated by their characters and how everyone had so much depth to them. not just the people though but everything, especially the old stuff. So naming mountains came naturally to her as a way to understand their history and their importance to the world. 

But today it's on him. He knew the names that the books had given the mountains and that often helped understand the effects that the peaks had on the world, but that was too easy. she meant that they had to give them new names. He was never very good at this; he usually went with something generic like bob or sam or he would give up, but she always managed to capture their nature and give such unique names like Slade or the captain. today all he can think of are depressingly short names, Jim Greg or Gorge. "No that won't do," he thinks, remembering that look she often gave him, those eyes were so persuasive always managing to get him to play along. Then he's hit with inspiration as the clouds reveal the largest peak towering over him, Ben Nevis, he bows and says” ah yes your highness” remembering how she had named this one king Robert on a previous adventure. Then slowly the clouds revealed the other peaks and names like Galahad and Lancelot come to mind. As he takes in the beauty of the rolling hills he begins to realize it's all still here just hiding behind the clouds. Was he smiling? This realization of what he had just done and how he was smiling and playing along without her filled him with guilt. but then he remembers the next rule and he quickly steps off the path and starts looking for flowers.

“ if you have a bad feeling about the flower you pick or path you take, change it up ” 

So when he notes even the slightest twitch of guilt for being happy he knew she would want him to change it up.” there are no wrong feelings, just wrong actions”, she would often tell him. So to accept his feelings but to move on quickly, he tries to remember when they decided to break this rule. he had a feeling that she was lying at the time, she never has a bad feeling at least not when it came to flowers, “ nope don't like this one” she pouted as she picked up a flower and looked at it with mock disdain. It was comical and almost as if she wasn't human. Her humor and confidence were so natural to her, unlike him, she never seems to have problems or do anything wrong. As he rises up the ridge he contemplates how much he misses her and how much he needs her in his life. The rain has stopped at this point he wasn't sure exactly when, at that point during his musing he has a breakthrough. His feelings aren't wrong they can’t be, somehow he knew this all along, but his lack of flower hunting was and so he continued to look. As if they were waiting for him, a patch of Purple Saxifrage revealed themselves from behind a rock. He lets out a small whoop as a sense of relief floods him, he heads over and squats down to pick the right one. 

“Be respectful of the wildlife, don't pick a flower that is in use”

As he bends down and looks at the patch of purple flowers he listens  for any sine of nature because as she would often remark “ something as small as a bee is important as the forest that it pollinates as everything is connected.”

 This one literally stung to brake and despite her claims, he's convinced it was an accident.  He remembered often encouraging her just to pick one already as she was being overly cautious and she would reply “Manners aren't for the bees, there for me so I can be happy with myself “ So taking his time to make sure the flower was free for the taking he observes the beautiful river has found himself next to and he could be confident with his choice and respect the actions he had made. At this moment he is reminded of how amazingly intricate and vast nature is. 

Now for the easy part, he thinks out loud, with a flower in hand, he heads up to the path leading towards the summit. The walks are easy, everything is laid out before you. The well-traveled paths are safe and secure. It’s the heading out on your own to find a flower. that is difficult, well not really it’s more the fear of the unknown and making decisions for yourself that's hard but even then it’s just a game “we made the rules so what does it matter if we fail a little here and there” she would say. she hated how serious he was all the time.

As he made his way back to the path a revelation came to him, he could do this he could carry on. He didn't have to forget her; he could remember her in everything he did and her memory would help him let go of all the seriousness that life threw at them. He could be the person she loved and carry on with her memory encouraging him every step of the way. He would use the time he had left, however long it was, to spread her guide to life with other people. After all, life is about connections, and with that thought, he realized he was standing at the top. The sky is clearer and the view is breathtaking, always is. 

As he takes in the view from the top he empties the ashes from their very worn thermos, closes his eyes, and says a silent prayer to the mountains. After a moment he opens their journal to press the flower in when he spots her handwriting a new rule, one she must have written before passing.

Hi Jon. Please find your flower, pick it, love it, and admire it, then preserve the dead.

His gut twisted as this feeling came over him, immense sadness she was able to still teach him from beyond, and then it dawned on him that he had to let it go. This memento of everything she had meant to him but he had to break the rule he was, unlike her, human and so he closed his eyes and a single tear fell on his face as he let the flower go for it to be carried off by the wind.