Look UP!

Mother’s Day is always difficult for me. When you can’t have children and suffered a miscarriage the only time you were able to get pregnant, the day that celebrates what you will never be is a hard one to get through.

This year, however, something happened that made me focus on something else.

The Friday before Mother’s Day, I received an excited phone call and text messages from my husband, Eric. He had found out that the Northern Lights (Aurora Borealis) were going to be visible in Wyoming and wanted to go camping to see them. We’d been trying to see the them since we moved here, but it never worked out. All those tries had just ended in arguments.

This time it felt different, so we grabbed our camping gear and headed to our favorite spot in the Bighorn Mountains. When we arrived there though, we realized we should have taken a little more time to pack. The cot we sleep on with our air mattress hadn’t made it into the truck (since we are both in our 40s, we have no shame about using a cot to camp).

We were like we can handle a night sleeping on the ground. We have our air mattress, and it’s super comfortable. Then we realized, we left the air pump for it at home. Unfortunately, it’s one of those that you can’t blow up with your mouth. We were like … we’ll be fine. It has some air in it, and it has memory foam. We will be okay.

We finished setting everything up, ate some food, sat around and waited for it to finish getting dark. It was starting to get chilly, so Eric set about making a fire. I put on my layers. Even though, it’s May, it gets cold in the mountains here. Unfortunately, I started getting really cold even with them on. It wasn’t even that cold. It was in the high 30s and low 40s. I’ve been in temperatures 60 degrees lower and hadn’t been this cold. Despite the layers, the fire, and the pair of Eric’s gloves I put on, I was freezing.

I finally gave up and went into the truck. I got in, shut the door, and curled into a ball to get warm. I was just trying to make it to midnight or 1 a.m., so I could see the lights with Eric. I didn’t want to let another opportunity pass by especially since I was just cold.

Eric kept checking on me to make sure I was okay. It was cute, and I appreciated it, but every time he opened the door, more cold air got into the truck. The last time he did, he came back less than five minutes later after telling me he would come back in awhile. I was about to tell him to go away, when he said, “You have to see this.” I got out, looked up and was speechless.

I forgot I was cold. I just kept looking up and staring. Eric and I started giggling like little kids and walking around the campground to our campsite, looking up the whole time. Each light we saw was more beautiful than the last.

We stayed like that for I don’t know how long, just looking at something so beautiful and breathtaking words can’t describe it. I returned to reality when my hands were shaking so hard I couldn’t hold my camera still. I got into our tent and warmed up to go to bed. I went to sleep that night knowing I had witnessed something awesome.

Eric and I woke up the next morning, well-rested and warm. The mattress hadn’t been a problem. We packed up, full of joy, and went about our day. That joy lasted through Saturday, Sunday, and into Monday. When I was halfway through my shift on Monday, I realized that joy got me through Mother’s Day with very few of the battles and sadness I usually experience.

So for me, the Northern Lights hold a special place in my heart. They will always be beautiful, breathtaking, and awesome, and seeing them will always be an experience Eric and I share. But it will also always be a piece of beauty that cuts through the grief in my heart.

*The photos are by me and my husband.