Living in Alaska - Life in the Last Frontier

This is the first time I’ve had the chance to update my blog while traveling. There hasn’t been much opportunity  - or time! - to update here, but there will be a lot to write when we get home and I go through the hundreds and hundreds of photos I’ve taken!

It has been an awesome vacation  - the best one of the summer! No rain (until today), sunshine, 60s, beautiful!!! Steve’s done some fishing, we’ve done some hiking, we’ve taken many scenic drives, we’ve explored every nook and cranny, and we’ve met some wonderful folks too.

We saw our share of bears too - and doing what they do best: fishing! What a great experience.

We’ve logged about 1100 miles so far, and taking the ferry from Haines to Skagway was definitely the way to go. It only took us an hour to make the trip, and saved us hundreds of miles, and many hours - allowing us more time to enjoy Skagway.

There will be quite a bit of information and photographs in upcoming entries, and I will have to break it down into several entries to make it more manageable.

Before I end this short entry, I want to give a shout out to Jack and Diane from CO, Bruce and Susan from SD, and Jenny and Jack from CA. I hope your time in AK/CAN has been as awesome as ours. Safe travels and stay in touch!

Until next time…

OK… so it’s not autumn yet. In fact, we’re probably still a few weeks out (weeks!), but I’m not real happy about the color changes I am seeing around my house.

I do admit that seeing these little touches of red and yellow and orange are very pretty amongst the green foliage, but I’m just not ready for what is to come. Can’t we have a few more months of summer?

The rain has been falling on almost a daily basis. It’s not a heavy rain, but it’s helping quite a bit with the smoke and fires. The smell of smoke in the air has lessened, making it easier for me to breathe, and there are even brief periods when I can actually see real clouds and not clouds of smoke.

We’re losing daylight hours quickly now. Gone are the 24-hour days. Length of light is now about 20 hours, which means we are having periods of darkness. Not the black darkness of winter, but dark enough where headlights are needed. I still can’t see the stars, but I haven’t been outside at the darkest hour either. In a few weeks, the northern lights will be visible again, when active.

Here’s a sample of the color changes I’m seeing around the yard. The misty rain has left beautiful tiny raindrops on the foliage.

This is a pretty shade of red, but I’d rather not see it yet!

Here are some flowers in my wildflower garden. I don’t know what kind they are, unfortunately. The flowerbed is too crowded. I’ll sow more sparingly next year.

This is horsetail. The raindrops look gorgeous on these spiky leaves:

A yellow birch leaf lays on our new green grass:

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Charles’ Celebration of Life was held yesterday at a local Masonic Lodge.  The room was full of people who knew and loved Charles. His siblings told stories about him - both funny and heartwarming. The good-hearted, kind and caring Charles that we knew as an adult, was the same Charles as a child.  With a quick wit, and wonderful sense of humor, he spread cheer wherever he went.  He liked to pull harmless pranks on friends and family, and his sister in law told the story of coming home from their honeymoon and finding that the canned goods in their cupboard had all their labels removed, while their living room furniture was re-arranged to face the walls.

While there was quite a bit of laughter as these stories were told, as each person finished their personal eulogy, the laughter was replaced with tears as emotional expressions of how much they were going to miss Charles came forth. There wasn’t a dry eye in the house.  Charles is going to be missed by so  many people. Anyone who knew him - even if briefly - was touched by him and will never forget him.  I know I won’t.

After the Celebration of Life, we all went downstairs to partake of a potluck and view photo slide shows of Charles and his family and friends.  It was decided that we would all go to the Gold Rush Saloon - where Charles and friends used to go to watch his favorite San Diego Chargers play (as well as other football games) - and have a drink and make a toast to him.

The family brought Charles’ ashes and Chargers football jersey to the bar. The box was placed on his jersey, in the middle of a table, with photos all around. We gathered in a circle around the table, while several toasts were made.  Charles would have loved that.

All in all, it was a bittersweet day of both tears and laughter, but a fitting send-off for so wonderful a man.  His ashes will be scattered in Denali Park by the family.  Charles didn’t attend a ‘bricks and mortar’ church here in AK, although he was a Christian. His temple was Denali Park, where God’s presence surrounded him in beauty.  A fine place to rest for eternity.

Perhaps they are not stars,
but rather openings in heaven
where the love of our lost ones
pours through
and shines down upon us
to let us know they are happy.
~Eskimo Prover~

Until next time…

The last few days have been a roller coaster of emotions for me. Several things have happened that make me sad, while other things have brought me joy. I suppose I’ll start with the sad first.

Yesterday, I learned that a dear friend died suddenly from a heart attack. Charles Sanderson was a gentle bear of a man, who spread love and warmth everywhere he went. He touched so many lives with his kindness and joyful spirit. He had a wonderful sense of humor and I found myself with a grin plastered to my face whenever I spent any time in his presence.

I “met” Charles through the Alaska Living Group after joining back in 2002. Not long after Steve and I arrived here in Alaska, members from the group gathered at Pioneer Park for a bbq/picnic. I took this photo of Charles on that day. Charles and his family arrived in AK only months before we did.

Charles worked as a locksmith, and when he handed Steve his card that day he told us to feel free to call on him whenever we needed his services. As “luck” would have it, Steve and I were locked out of his still-running truck while attending one of our first dogsled races. It was a Sunday in December and -40F.  Steve pulled Charles’ business card out of his wallet and we called him for assistance. He didn’t hesitate to drive all the way from his home in North Pole, taking time away from his family, and coming out on a frigid day, to get us back into our truck.

He refused payment, but we couldn’t let him go home without something. We asked him to follow us to our house on Fort Wainwright, where Steve pulled a moose roast and a couple of halibut steaks out of the freezer. Charles was happy to receive the meat/fish as payment. It was the least we could do after pulling him away from his family on a Sunday morning.

A few years later, while Steve was deployed to Iraq, I joined several members of the Alaska Living Group at the local Denny’s for breakfast. I was so lonely for my husband; he had been gone for about 4 months by then. Anyone who has ever gone through a long separation knows that “touch” quickly becomes the thing you miss the most - especially if you’re in a relationship in which hand-holding and hugs are a ‘many times a day’ occurrence.

At breakfast, Charles asked me how I was doing, and was very sympathetic to my fears and worries about Steve’s safety and well-being.  His expression of appreciation for the service our military members provide, was so heartfelt, that my eyes filled with tears. He gave me a big bear hug then - the first hug I’d had since sending my husband off to war.  I felt his care and concern for me, while in the shelter of his huge arms, and I knew that if I needed anything, Charles and his family would help in any way they could. That’s the kind of people they are.

When I think of Charles, I remember his voice. It could be very loud and booming when telling a joke or laughing deep belly laughs. But at the same time it could be gentle and loving when he spoke of his children and how proud of them he was. Or when he spoke of his love for Morgan (Moe), his beloved wife.  Everyone knew how much he adored his family - and they him. He was a fine example of a husband and father. My heart breaks for Moe and his children: Sarah (age 16), Heidi (age 15) and Christopher (age 11).  Charles, you will be sorely missed. Rest peacefully, my friend.

(more…)