Many Nights Under Pink Skies You Taught ‘em to Enjoy

The next week is going to be a momentous one. I am up in the mountains with Piper and her friends for their last high school trip. They graduated from a small private school together, a class of just 20 some, and have lived together since the fourth grade, some even going further back than that. It is going to be an adjustment for us all. I can feel both the excitement and the fear of letting go of the past to move forward. That is one mixed bag of emotions that I can most relate to.

Piper will be attending school just two short hours away, but sometimes it feels like the mountains that I can view right now will stand in the way. Gone will be the morning bedhead that I see her sporting and the weekends where she strolls downstairs at about noon or after. 

Gone will also be the late night essays that we’ve been writing together, talks about who did what at school, and many movie nights shared doing nothing but laughing together. Not forever I know, but the simplicity of the daily routine and routine nature of effortlessly seeing her and catching up will not be a daily luxury. 

Like most things, I am pretending if I don’t acknowledge it, it won’t be real. It is, however, becoming very, very real.

As with all major events in my life, I have been thinking lately about all that Colin missed out on, all that Piper didn’t have in her life, and how different our lives would have been if Colin had been allowed to stay in it. I can’t even imagine the normalcy we might have had, or how incredibly lucky Piper, all of the kids, would have been to have him. He was the most amazing spirit and father. 

Total transparency, some days I could fall into despair considering all that we lost so long ago, again, I try not to acknowledge it.

I purchased tickets for Piper and I to see a concert, one last together before she headed off to school for a Christmas gift. We will be going to see Zach Bryan on Saturday night with Cheryl Crow. Like so many times in my life, I see the cycle of things unfolding in front of me and get an eerie feeling that things were meant to be. 

A few weeks ago the song “Pink Skies” came out. Piper and I have this weird thing where we like to know all of the songs when we go to a concert. If you only know the popular ones, it almost feels like you are a fair weather friend. On the set list is Pink Skies.

For anyone who hasn’t heard the song, it is all about a funeral and how the kids come home to attend it. Zach Bryan is talking to a loved one saying “If you could see them now, you’d be proud…” and that line will get me every time. It is like I wrote the song to Colin. If he could see his children now, he would be so proud. I am not sure he’d think “they’s yuppies…” but potentially. Once more, the song is about how the person lost was responsible for showing the kids "pink skies" and to appreciate them.

"And plenty nights under pink skies you taught 'em to enjoy..."

Colin certainly taught us all to see pink skies, and I think of him and the one shining behind him on the photo he had me take of our last sunset together.

It is bittersweet that Zach wrote and released that song, that I will be going to the concert with Piper as our last concert before she leaves for school, and that all of his children are on their way, doing such amazing things, being so incredibly sweet, smart, talented, gifted, and most importantly, kind, just like their father. 

If you ever wonder whether it is nature versus nurture, look to my children and you will know that their spirit is something they were given to from one of the most amazing humans I was blessed to know, Colin.

Not any less miraculous, I got a call from my friend two days ago. We have a mutual friend who was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer two years ago. When I met our mutual friend, we were casually talking about where we were from, and I found out that he was from my hometown, lived in the same area that I am from, and was a police officer. If memory serves me, which it does not, he probably pulled me or my friends over a time or two. 

His PET scan came back clear. After fighting one of the most deadly diseases out there, he is now cancer free. Full recovery. 

That was a gift that will continue to give every day. He is one of the most kindhearted, loving, grateful for each day, people I have ever met and he has been given the gift of many more years to enjoy, and for all of us who know him to likewise enjoy alongside. 

Sometimes life hands you what you need when you need it, and that was a call I needed right now to remind me that life isn’t always fair, but it is worth every single moment, and no moment is worth wasting.

So… I’m off to climb mountains and finally acknowledging that Piper will soon be off climbing them figuratively on her own. My consolation prize is knowing she is well equipped, strong, and ready to tackle the steepest paths out there.