Half asleep in my tent and constantly shifting. I try to sleep but another attack of my restless mind comes upon me. I would have thought having a nice relaxing evening watching the northern lights would have made for a good night's sleep, but the mind is a mystery.
I sensed that my Grandpa wanted to talk about my parents divorce but was skirting around asking directly about it. Waiting to see if I wanted to talk about it first, most likely. I was very much wanting to talk about it, but when talking of something painful, something you know will hurt, there can be avoidance. Someone who cares for you knows it might be opening a wound to bring up so they don't want to force it on you. So you both dance around the subject and dealing with the problem gets kicked down the line. Sometimes it's better to just rip the band-aide off and be done with it.
Though we didn't talk about it, my mind couldn't help but think of it. It was a shadow looming around corners. Families are interconnected and the fall out of a divorce spreads like a virus to everyone. Like all disasters it was damage control and recovery. The clean up would be waiting for me when we got back. So as much as I shoved it out of my mind up here, it still was lurking. You can throw garbage in a pile and ignore it but eventually you can no longer ignore the stench.
I've ignored my anger at my mom all summer. Practically gone out of my way not to mention it at times. I can feel the anger wanting to take hold. She's in Europe probably sitting at cafes and eating at fine restaurants that all the pretentious people eat at. Sleeping on soft hotel mattresses, seeing ancient architecture, fitting in with the local fashion, and hitting all the best tourist spots.
When you get a new rich boyfriend the world opens up to your every desire. Since my mom found Jeff, they've been satisfying their whims and fancies on every pleasure tour imaginable. They spend most of their weekends on Lake Minnetonka socializing with local celebrities and uppercrust yahoos. They all have expensive boats, and wear just the right outfits. They have pretentious conversations about wines and other rich people's problems. They try to one-up each other with the latest waste of money they've just achieved. They say things so everyone hears them like, "Oh, I was just driving the Lambo on my way to the country club." or whatever people like to say. I hardly spend time over there because I'm like a misfit toy around that crowd. In fairness I decline most of the time when they ask me to go on a trip or go to some function with their friends. I'm usually the only kid there as it's just a bunch of adults getting drunk, and so I end up by myself.
I haven't had a shower in days, been eating food out of a pouch, and using toilets in the middle of a forest for every animal to grab some popcorn and enjoy the show. Sitting in a canoe, I couldn't tell you if it was comfortable or not because I couldn't feel my backside half the time. I have come a long way out here, and it is but a moment's regret at how I could have been in the Mediterranean living it up in the lap of luxury. It's so frustrating that I can't even yell at her about it. Every time we've talked of late one of us is hanging up the phone in anger. She's so selfish. If it wasn't for her I would have been hanging out with my friends having fun and not stressed out. I would have had a home and Dad wouldn't have had to sell the only house I've ever known. I would be sitting in my sweats getting nothing done. I was letting negative thoughts ruin the good fun Grandpa and I were having.
Why do people hurt those they love? There is some sort of weird psychology behind it I'm sure. When a husband or wife is found murdered, it's always the spouse who killed them. I know parents and children who never speak to each other. Is it because we are so like that we get on each other's nerves. Is it that they force us to care about them and we can't all be libertines indulging in pleasures. The conflict of self versus how you fit into a group. Many religious groups feel you can never be truly free until you release your attachment to even your family. That your attachment makes you ruled by emotions, and ultimately you have to give up the attachment of self. That if you don't it will only lead to suffering. Others will say just to love but only love that doesn't seek reward will break the cycles.
We can't stop them from the pain they inflict; we can only control how we react to it. We can continue to be the victim or take control of it. Wounds leave scars and reminders, and so some things never fully heal. Forgiveness is the medicine that can set you free. Forgiveness isn't about excusing the wrongs that have been done. It is about leaving them in the past so you can move forward. It is never about the person who wronged you, but it is ultimately you that is being healed. It doesn't matter what the person who you forgave does with it. If you don't let go there can be no progress. At some point you are just hurting yourself. Self-pity can be a pretty powerful tool as well. In the long run my parents divorce was probably for the best. Good old Jeff was far better suited for her. Dad was never going to be rich and jet-setting the world. She was never going to be the person who liked small town life. It really makes me wonder how they ever got together in the first place.
People change and so do their hopes and dreams. Without change things stagnate and people are no different. Some find comfort in that in the familiar and some run from it. I guess I can see where my parents fall in line.
The wind has picked up a little, and the tent is making all kinds of annoying flapping noises. I finally found a comfortable position and was dozing off when I heard what I thought was Grandpa snoring. He can't help it so I just tried to ignore it. It seemed like it was getting louder and accompanied by a strange thrashing sound. It sounded like branches snapping.
All my senses were now on alert. Grandpa startled awake, "Is that you Jordi?!" He called.
"No, I'm over here wondering what that is." I whispered.
There was all kinds of snorting and huffing. It was hard to tell how far away the noise was coming from.
"What is it?" I said now out of my sleeping bag and leaning toward Grandpa. He just shuffled his eyes while seemingly listening intently. I think he had his suspicions but didn't want to say just yet. "Did we put the food pack up the tree?" He suddenly was concerned.
"Yeah, why? You don't think." I paused as I didn't want to say it out loud as if it could hear me.
"Jordi, Crash course. If this is what I think it is, don't run or climb a tree. We will have to make loud noises, yell, and possibly throw things at it. Got it?"
"What do you think it is?"
"Doesn't matter, did you get what I told you?" He demanded to know.
"Yes! Yell and throw rocks. Don't run."
"Good. We are going to just stay in the tent and hope it moves on by itself. We don't have anything in the tent that smells strongly?"
"Just you and I." He looked at me wanting to laugh but it probably wasn't the time. "No, not that I know of."
"Good"
He wouldn't be concerned about the food pack if it was just a big deer or moose. The amount of noise it made certainly could be a moose. I know deer are much quieter than whatever this was, but I wasn't sure if moose made a lot of noise. The one we saw the other day in the water didn't seem to care that we were there. I just don't think they do this much huffing and snorting.
"You don't think it's a bear, like a real bear?" I finally asked.
"Unfortunately, I do think it's a bear, a real bear." We heard a snapping of something and he mouthed the words, no talking slowly. Despite the close quarters I was glad Grandpa was right next to me. Grandpa was calm and just listening, as I was fighting my desire to run to the canoe and paddle away. The noises seemed to be getting further away but it was hard to be sure. We sat next to each other stiff from fear, and listening for any little noise. It seemed like it had been ten or fifteen minutes without hearing a sound.
"I think it's gone?" He said.
"Do you really think it was a bear?"
"You can head out into the woods and make sure."
"I'm not that curious."
"I'm going to go out and see if the food packs are OK." "What are you going to leave me alone in here? I'm coming with you. Besides, I think I have to pee."
He grabbed the flashlight and slowly unzipped the tent door. He poked his head out to make sure it was all clear. He stepped out and thoroughly moved the light around camp, double checking it was safe. I came out of the tent and stood just behind him.
"I thought you had to go to the bathroom?" He seemed confused.
"I'm not going back there by myself if there's a bear around here."
He sighed, and continued his check of the camp. "Looks like everything is Ok. I don't see any damage to the pack." He looked to me as if assessing his next problem. "I'll walk with you to the latrine and I'll turn my back if that will help."
"Can't I just go by some bush?"
"Sure, but that is more likely to attract the bear back."
"Ok, fine."
"Besides, now that you mentioned it I've got to go now." He bent over to grab some things off the ground. "Here take a couple of rocks. If we run into the bear on the trail we will need something to throw." I took them and all my senses were on red alert as we headed down the trial to the latrine.
I was jumping at every shadow, and ready to chuck a rock at a moment's notice. He just moved the light back and forth calmly. We were walking very deliberately and slowly. We reached the latrine and he turned.
"I'll need the flashlight to keep watch so you're going to have to go in the dark. I'll keep the light on you until you reach the seat."
I wasn't too thrilled about going in the dark but I nodded anyway. I reached the seat and gave him a signal to turn around. I could see towards him but everything else was pitch black. I sat ready to go but I had some shyness going on. Probably my body is ready to bolt. I tried to relax and wasn't even bothered by the mosquitoes buzzing. I had bigger things to worry about.
I finished and Grandpa gave me the flashlight so he could go. "You can go back to the tent, I'll find my way in the dark. Just keep the light on the toilet long enough so I can get close."
I did as instructed and then headed back to the tent. I wasn't thrilled by going down the trail alone and hoped he didn't take too long. With any luck he was right behind me because I was moving pretty slow on the trail. I reached the camp and waited over by the tent for him so he'd have a light when he got back. I smoked a couple of mosquitos and now I really want to come back.
I had the light on the path, and he came out with his hands over his eyes. I lowered so I wasn't blinding him. He was walking toward me, when he froze still. I was wondering what in God's name was he doing. Then I noticed he was looking to my right, I glanced to see what had caught his eye. My eyes widened and my knees buckled a little when I saw a large black bear just looking at us in what I viewed as a sinister way.
It seemed to bulge in every direction. The three of us were not moving and just looking for someone to give away their intentions. The bear was sniffing the air toward me and I locked my body in place somehow thinking I could prevent my smell from being detected, which was idiotic. I was directing my gaze toward my Grandpa to silently ask what I should do. He lifted both his hands to signal me to be still. I had no plans to do otherwise. I could hear it grunting and breathing near me and the anxiety of not knowing the bear's intentions were making me lose my mind. Was it hungry or just curious? Was it scared and surprised, if so I hoped it just went away. I was starting to relax my shoulders after minutes of unrelenting tension. Then I remembered what Grandpa said about throwing rocks. I forgot my rocks by the latrine and I didn't see any in my peripheral vision.
The bear started to swipe with its giant paws at the ground in front of it. If it was trying to scare us it worked big time. It was making low grunts and strange noises. I thought this couldn't be good.
It let out a ferocious roar as I'd never heard before in my life. The blood felt like it rushed out of my body. I started to walk slowly backward so I could put the tent between it and me.
Grandpa seemingly was trying to draw its attention as he started yelling, "Hey bear, go away. Get! Yah!", just anything to get it to run away. But it didn't seem to want to go away.
At first it was startled by him yelling but not entirely sold on the threat. Grandpa threw his rocks and then grabbed a good-sized stick and started hitting the ground violently and repeating, "Get out of here" at it. He was moving towards it and repeating his threats. It seemed to be working as the bear backed up.
I looked around to see if I could find something similar, but as I was looking the bear decided to come around the back way toward me. Grandpa must have noticed as he came running over by me to try and cut it off. As he was running it was hard to see in the dark with plenty of foot hazards and he tripped falling heavily on a rock. He was bleeding and I could tell he had some discomfort immediately. I'd have to do something as I wasn't sure if he could stand. I thought the bear was coming for me but seemed to be heading at him. Instinct kicked in and I made myself as big as I could. I screamed at the top of my lungs. "Ahh!" my best version of a roar. It seemed to catch the bear off guard as it stopped in its tracks. I made a lunging gesture and started crazily kicking dirt and screaming. I was shooting my arms straight up in a threatening manner I could manage. It probably looked ridiculous but it did the trick.
The bear ran off in the direction it came, and we didn't hear or see it again that night. I didn't wish it any harm, I hoped it learned a lesson and stayed out of camps for now on. I thought, "Go and tell all your bear friends that there's a crazy lady and she is not to be messed with."
When I think about it, I don't think the bear was trying to kill us. I think it felt threatened and was just protecting itself. No matter the reason it certainly could have ended worse than it did. I didn't have time to even process what I had done. To stand up to a wild bear and actually scare it away. It was an adrenaline rush to be certain, but I'll pass on future occurrences.
I went over to help Grandpa to his feet. "Can you roll up my pant leg?" He asked. As I rolled it I could see blood coming down this leg. The cut seemed to run the length of his lower leg. "Are you ok?" I was trying not to panic as I wasn't sure what we'd do if he was injured badly.
"I tripped and I think I rolled my ankle."
"Rolled your ankle, You've got a giant cut." "It looks worse than it is."
"Does anything else hurt?" I was trying to assess the severity of the situation.
"Some minor cuts on my hands, and a few bumps and bruises I'll see show up in the morning. It's mostly the ankle."
"What do you want me to do?"
"Bring me over by the campfire." I helped him over near the fire grate. "First I want you to make sure the bear is gone." He gave me the flashlight and I made noise as I checked the camp in all directions. I couldn't be sure, but I thought it was finally gone.
"Seems like it's gone."
"Good, I'm going to need you to stay calm and not panic. Do what I ask slowly and don't rush. Got it."
"Got it."
"First, I want to thank you for chasing the bear away. You looked crazier than antlers on a bird. I would have probably run off too if it wasn't for my ankle." It didn't seem like the moment but it did cut some tension to laugh. Now I had a real life test to complete from Grandpa. No more hypotheticals, and I was so full of adrenaline that I was ready for any challenge.