We have had the privilege of visiting Yellow Stone National Park
twice. We went once in 1986 and once in 1990. The great geysers, wildlife, and
incomparable panoramas amazed us. We saw the buffalo, deer, and got a close-up
of a moose cow and her calf. We took
rolls of film and kept even more memories. The moose shot was likely a foolish
one, we passed them while driving down a park road, and I stopped and got out
as she stood on the road behind us, the calf off the edge in the woods that
lined both sides.
Our travels to Yellowstone are not the only wondrous visits
we have been able to enjoy. There could be very deep debates of what is the
"best" place in America, (over the earth?). Even the geysers are not
unique to that area of rugged beauty. Wolves, buffalo, birds and other scarce
pieces of creation are seeing the park as a refuge from what might otherwise be
extinction. It could be said that Yellowstone is one of the most diverse pieces
of real estate we can so easily get to.
We saw the park twice, once before the fire, once after.
Like most Americans, we sat by television news reports of the destruction.
There were comments of how it might never recover. Supposed authorities cried
this would be a tragedy from which there would never be full recovery.
Our second visit confirmed what some were very surprised to
find. The burned areas had found new life. Small plants that had been shielded
from the sun, now flourished. Diversity of life exploded after the fire. Even
the animal life continued to go on and even multiply. The new life in the park
would not have been except by the fire's passage. We learned that the lodgepole
pine tree cones don't open except in forest fires.
There are things in life that do not come easy. Some great
things only follow what others would define as hurtful. Expressions of love,
depth of concern, level of compassion, and other big qualities of our humanity,
are rarely seen or known by other means. People with Mito, Alzheimer’s, Multiple
Sclerosis, and other silent thieves are the "Petri dish" of growth
for those who must care for those who our society calls ill. These
"ill" people (of which I count myself) are not the debris of life.
These lives challenge our sense of normal, in love, in giving, in going beyond
ourselves.
These lives are the foundries of greater being. Too many
lives fill their length without doing anything memorable. Lives that breathed,
ate, slept but never reached out beyond simple day-to-day that is called life
(by some). It was my answer to such a call that led me to be a living liver
donor. I saw a life that was nearing a sad end, potentially leaving a wife and
three kids behind. The doctors were able to remove a part of my liver and
completely replace the liver of a man I will call friend. I did not get paid
for this (such is illegal), and it was not I who could gain that drove me. I
gained being able to help. Now I am receiving from others having become one in
the "Mito family".
I believe in God. I know that when we have given to others,
He knows and remembers. Maybe we should get T-shirts that say, "I am a
lodgepole pine!" for the depth of challenges that care-givers experience.
