Finding Solace on the Shores of Lonesome Lake

Has my sister really left us here on this remote shoreline? How can that be? Why would she? She just left for a moment, she’ll be back shortly, right?

She can’t have done so knowingly. She can’t have envisioned her path with us would end here. She can’t have wanted others to feel this lost. How could she?

No, that was not her nature – not who she was. She would not abandon anyone. She would not want to see anyone struggle like this. As diminutive as she might’ve been, she would gladly take on an avalanche of pain if it meant no one else had to endure it. No, this exit was not her choice, this was not her way.

Standing here in this moment, in this quiet place of solitude, finding peace within is difficult. Time may rectify that. But for now it still feels particularly raw, cold, and empty.

Wisps of white vapor float slowly across the sky, carrying her onward. I watch the reflection of the clouds playing on top of the calm waters, and they are projecting memories of our youth and recent gatherings. The surface ripples outward in rings as droplets fall from my face – more waves come. There will be no more memories we can create together.

A cool light cuts cleanly through the shallows of the lake revealing the amber rocky bed below. The painful reminders laying there just beneath where we misstepped or threw stones instead of leaving well enough alone. But I mustn’t dwell on those slip-ups. There were so many other pleasant times to wade through.

On the faint breath of a breeze, I hear her voice whispering in my ears in melancholic tones, trying to soothe my thoughts. It is a reminder that the bond that we share as brother and sister cannot ever be truly severed.

Now, as I sit here in seclusion, her absence weighs heavily upon my heart. I watch in longing as trees sway gently in the distant winds with their branches outstretched to grasp those just out of reach of their nearby siblings. Such a place has never felt so fitting.

If you happen to find yourself along this same path, please take a seat with me for a moment. Won’t you?

Words and images by Michael J. Hall