Hearing from Alex at Queche Gorge

A few years before we lost Alex, I made a trip alone to see him at school in New Hampshire.

We had both been looking forward to the visit, and once I got there, we left the campus and drove around the surrounding areas, just hanging out.

We decided to spend time at nearby Quechee Gorge. It is a steep, deep gorge with a river at the bottom cutting through the New Hampshire granite. Above the river is a path. Alex and I walked that path and talked for a while.

Years later, not long after his death, I found myself driving to his old school again in New Hampshire. I decided to visit Quechee Gorge again on the way, and walk once more the stony path we spent time on that day.

Once there, with no sound for miles except that of the roaring waters below, I spoke aloud to Alex.

“Alex, I don’t know if you’re here with me, but I do know you would remember that day, and this place, very well. I hope you’re okay, wherever you are. If you can find a way, if it’s easy, let me know you’re all right. That you’re happy. Okay?”

Just a few minutes later, I passed a tree stump. And took this picture.


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