August 25th Part 2

The trip down the Salmon was incredible. Central Oregon has had an unusually cold summer, not breaking 100 degrees. Idaho has provided, as it often does, a much needed solution to the cold for our staff with hot days and warm water. I was able to spend time getting to know each of the people I work with and as a bonus I was able to laugh downriver with Devon. She always reminds me of the person I aspire to be, and the power that one person can possess. The trip was fairly smooth and despite an unusually uptight raft company, we managed to have one hell of a good time. We have gotten back in the van and began our trip home.

I always find the moments after a multi-day trip has ended to be interesting. People tend to go one of two ways, denial or technology. I certainly have lost my ability to be river nostalgic for more than a few moments and I know that the quicker I get through the texts, emails, and voicemails the sooner I will be able to relax after the trip. This day suddenly wreaked of a familiar outcome, one that would change everything permanently (a concept in Buddhism doesn't often prove true).

One simple text told me all I needed to know, "Hey man, why is the shop empty?" This haunting message filled me in on Maddie's intentions for the weeks prior and leading through this trip. All I had to respond to this on the 8 hour drive from Idaho was a knife throwing text to Maddie saying, "We are off the river, can't wait to tell you the great news!" Which was bullshit, but I thought at least this would cause her some serious embarrassment and shame.

The drive home is terrible. Lacking the ability to contain secrets has forced me to inform the people I am with that she has run off (at some point I need to learn this skill) and it has started those droopy lips from my newly formed friends. I am astonished that I am again coming off this river to a wrecked life, almost exactly 4 years later, because of the same person. The Salmon River and all of it's amazing offerings will never be paddled again by this fool.

When I arrive home things are as they would be expected, missing. She has taken many liberties in dividing our (my) belongings and it looks very similar to my freshman year of college once again. The house looks like it had been rummaged through and heaps of garbage are strewn throughout. It seems that she decided she had little time to act to be clear of having to explain her actions. I am numb and I cannot begin to process what the next step will be. I have surgery in a few days and possibly the most grotesque betrayal, she took the bed. Recovery will now be complicated...

Thought #1: This trip was open to both the staff and our partners. However, I felt it necessary to keep Maddie off of the trip as things have been so challenging. I now realize that I will never again be ashamed of my relationship to the degree of hiding it. 

Thought #2: At this point Maddie had already chosen her path. After years of offered help and assistance for her depression, she has decided that I truly am the root of her sadness. As a result of the entire ordeal I have learned one simple truth. A broken person blames themselves, a failure blames the world.  

August 21-25 Part 1

"Who builds a two-legged table. That's just irresponsible." Sterling Scott

I have managed to survive a few days without having any major issues. The doctors have informed me that things should be just as they have been for the last year, and a vegan diet will most likely keep me from having a gall bladder attack during this trip. I am on the way to the Salmon River in Idaho for a 5-day raft trip with my new coworkers. I have joined a crew of teachers for a public charter school, teaching outdoor recreation and helping students achieve their academic goals. *1 

This trip is the start to a major transition for our business. The kayak shop and school are both thriving, and this success is a promising premonition that things for Maddie and I are finally going to ease up. 3 years of constant dedication to the paddling community has left many scars, and we aren't close. Most my nights are spent on the couch looking at friends Facebook marriages and children. After several long nights and emotional discussions, Maddie agreed that we could give things a little time to mellow out, now that the season is ending. I left the house feeling good about where everything is, and set forth to medicate on the river. *2

Interesting background with the Lower Salmon River and myself. The stretch we are rafting on this retreat I have only paddled once before, almost exactly 4 years ago- 3 weeks from today. During the previous experience, I was celebrating our anniversary knowing that somewhere upstream Maddie was doing the same. I sat at the edge of the sand beach with hands in the river, imagining that water passing by my hands was allowing her to safely navigate the upper stretch that day. Possibly, that her hands may even be resting as well connecting us in water. However, upon return of this trip things felt strange between us. A simple glimpse of an engagement ring and Maddie broke into confession of an affair she had been having with a person twice her age. River love... a concept that looks appealing on paper, and in fact, ruins many lives. Spending every moment with another person on the water for several weeks will always bring you closer. The mistake lays in a belief that river-time never ends and it seems as though she was washing betrayal down onto my hands.  

It is easy to be optimistic that this trip will have a much better outcome...

August 18-21

I view my life as a three-legged table. Each support relies on the others.

Adam and Mckenzie have gotten married, and my time with them is an imbalanced experience. My health is unpredictable and spending the first day in the hospital of my adult life a few days earlier, I am learning that I may not be as invincible as my teenage self imagined. Maddie looks good for the somber-sunken person she has become. Last night was the first time that she has actually seemed to be motivated or interested in the possibility of us splitting up, with a conversation that was both aggressive and emotional about her leaving. Watching the primped crowd dance and rejoice with the Mendel family is a reminder that things are not good. The strength of my emotional leg is flimsy.

Throughout the wedding process I realize that my illness has not been received well by the families. People are giving me bold stares, frequently, with a face that screamed, "Why is the best man so hungover?" or "You're a piece of shit". I think that Adam decided he had his fill of the snickering and informed people of my ash. It seemed as though a sudden shift occurred in perspectives, as the hoards came to provide a load of guilty pity. I have learned that pity begins in the lips. It seems as though a person's lips pull the cheeks downward to reveal more of their eyes.

At this point I have been convinced by my doctors that I need to have a simple laparoscopic gall bladder surgery. This first ER visit was brought on by a gall stone moving into my common bile duct. As a result, my liver and pancreas began to fail. I was jaundice, turning my eyes yellow. During my examination in the ER they discovered that my heart was also in atrial fibrillation. 

It was so difficult to be in the wedding and not feel like a damn zombie. I wanted so badly to celebrate with these amazing people.