Page 131 of Let the Light Shine Through

Gia’s board is an exact replica of mine, except instead of a red male Cardinal, hers has the tan female. Side by side, her bird’s looking forward, toward the future, but mine’s looking at her, his future.

During Gia’s many appointments, I commissioned an artist to custom design them for us as a way to represent me watching Gia’s back, even when she’s not looking, even when she can’t see me. Because even when she couldn’t open her eyes from sheer exhaustion, I was there, making sure she was taken care of, never once considering being anywhere other than by her side.

Tears I didn’t think I still had fill my eyes.

It’s been a long road to get here. For both of us.

Gia meets me outside our private igloo and immediately stops to gaze up at the impressive sky, breathing, “Whoa.”

“Beautiful,” I agree, and she looks directly at me, saying, “Stunning.”

I go over all the safety gear with Gia, making sure she’s all set, then we start off toward the chairlift just past the copse of colossal evergreens coated with heavy snow that separate the lodging section of the resort from the trails.

After what feels like another two years on the lift, we finally crest the top of the mountain and clear the ramp. It’s something I’ve done before hundreds of other times, if not more, but now feels like the first time all over again, and I get a fucking high from it as I look down at what awaits us below.

You getting this? I send up to Salvy because I know he’s watching. I still miss my best friend, but I no longer use that grief to punish myself. I’ll snowboard today, and maybe after this, and it probably won’t be the same as before, but expecting anything in life to remain the same was unrealistic. We’re always moving, changing, growing. I was rejecting that concept though, instead choosing to stay stationary. Life is a gift; one we should live intentionally. My wife taught me that, but so did Salvy, and I want to honor him by choosing to live, all day, every fucking day, as long as I can.

Several other night boarders line up on both sides of us as I bend down to activate the LED lights built into our boards. The sensors spring to life, and Gia bends backward, setting off a sequence of colorful lights along the rim of her board. I do the same with mine while she straps her other foot in, then get my own bindings adjusted before checking hers.

“How you feelin’?” Next to me, Gia stands tall, illuminated by the floodlights surrounding us as she watches me closely.

She just battled and beat cancer, and she’s worried about how I’m doing?

“I’m good,” I tell her honestly. It may not be the honeymoon most people envision, but it’s ours and it’s perfect. Imperfectly perfect.

“We’ll see about that.” Hands to my chest, Gia pushes, making me fall flat on my ass, then angling her body toward me, she smirks down at me and says, “Try to keep up, cowboy,” before proceeding to shred the absolute fuck out of the slope we’re on, leaving sprays of pow in her wake. She said she could board, but she never told me she could rip. Fuck. Me.

Pushing to standing again, I alternate between watching her ass and the LEDs rapidly lighting up in reaction to her every move before I realize we’re back to where we started—me chasing after her without a second thought.

I shake out my arms, filling my lungs, and after the first hop, I lose almost all conscious thought as my body takes over, guiding me back into familiar movements as natural to me as walking or breathing.

Damn. I missed this.

I don’t regret walking away from snowboarding—I wouldn’t have met Gia otherwise—but damn, did I miss it. My brain, my body, my heart, my fucking soul missed it, and now that I’m back, I feel peace, a peace I’d been denying myself out of near-crippling guilt. It wasn’t my fault Salvy died though, only how I handled it afterward, and for that I take full responsibility. I’ll never go back to that place again because now I know, there’s always a choice. I can choose wrong, or I can choose right, but the choice is mine to make.

Easily catching up to Gia, I match her move for move until about halfway down, she pulls off to the side next to a wooden split-rail fence.

“What’s up?” I ask, yanking off my helmet to instantly check her over. “Is everything okay?”

She lifts her goggles to the top of her helmet, meeting my eyes to say, “I thought I saw a Pine Grosbeak.”

My ribs stop aching and I take a full breath.

Pointing out over the trees, she says, “But don’t you think this would be a good place to have your ashes spread?”

Not this again.

I lift my chin, exhaling through my mouth. The warm fog rises, getting lost in the light show above us.

“You planning on dying?” I slide my eyes over to her, but she’s already looking my way, wearing the same smile she first caught me with.

She grabs my hand, squeezing tightly through the fat cushioning of our gloves, and shouts, “Not today!” into the air for the world to hear.

Fuck yes. Here we go.