Earlier this year I lost my older sister Colleen, after a decades-long battle with addiction. In our younger years we were very close. Over the last several years we had become more estranged, largely because of the choice I made for me and my own family to detach from the dysfunction that was associated with her disease. It wasn’t without years of trying to help and intervene in so many different ways. This became the case for my other siblings, as well as many other friends and loved ones who one by one distanced themselves over time. And yet with that, I still miss her and will always love her.
Just above my home, about a 9-iron away, is access to a trailhead for a smooth 10-mile stretch that runs along the base of the beautiful Wasatch mountains overlooking the valley. This relatively flat bike path is a perfect round trip distance for my level of expertise. I take this ride about two days a week on average, both for the exercise and to soak up the majestic views. I feel free, unencumbered, and for about an hour I have an opportunity for quiet and peaceful reflection.
As those of us working in Admissions will attest, being tied to your phone is an essential part of the job description. Particularly in working with families who are considering placement in a wilderness program, ideal timing is often the exception. Being attentive and responsive to parents in crisis are critical components in helping them take that step to find peace and to regain hope.