To My Beloved Surain

How can I summarize a life that has been so rich with you, where we have shared so much, had so much in common, and loved so much being together? So rich that many people think that we have already experienced many lifetimes, yet by count of the years it has been cut short? Towards the end, you often said that you wanted to spend another 23 years with me, and I with you. But cruel fate has taken you away from me.

You loved Puget Sound and always talked about it. You studied in Pullman and then in Denver. But the mountains there were not nearly as spectacular as Mount Rainier. And you missed the salt water and especially the storms over Puget Sound. We have paddled our kayak out on the open Pacific Ocean, in huge rollers hiding mountains in the troughs. Your excitement had no boundaries at those times.

So it is befitting that I am going to spread most of your ashes right here in Puget Sound where you grew up. I will be in our Nautiraid, our beloved French folding kayak that we have taken with us around the world. The ocean never sits still, it moves and blows and crashes and whirls around headlands. So let some of the ashes be taken far away, to lands where we have been and loved and loved each other; to where our kayak has taken us in Alaska, The Everglades, Baja California, the Stockholm Archipelago, Fiji, and especially Banggai Islands in Indonesia. Let the ashes also carry to other places like the glaciers in southern Chile, to Tonga and Samoa, to Greece, and far north of the Arctic Circle in the Sea of Norway.

There are places where the oceans cannot reach. As a symbol for our love for hiking in the Cascades, this September I shall hike up to the loveliest spot we have seen - in September 1992, up to the Enchantments. At the top of Aasgard pass, some of your ashes will come to rest. Ashes I shall also take to Lake Virihaure at Mid-Summer, north of the Arctic Circle in Northern Sweden. We hiked there in July 1983. Let that place symbolize your love for Sweden, and especially for this lovely, treeless, alpine land.

To symbolize our love for India, we have chosen three magical sites:

  1. First Kanya Kumari at the southern tip, famed for Sri Vivekananda; this is a multi-religious holy site. Our most auspicious New Year happened here in 1995/96, so again I shall be here this New Year and spread some of your ashes.
  2. Secondly Varanasi, the Hindus holiest place at the Ganga river; we visited this our favorite Indian city in May 2000. You are not a Hindu, but I still feel that it would be appropriate with a Hindu-style second funeral. So I will take some of your ashes to a funeral pyre and let them burn to ashes once again. Then I will let them float down the river.
  3. And finally the small village of Rampura in Rajasthan that we visited in July 2000. Never before have we had such an intimate contact with villagers and been given such a welcoming ceremony. Here, too, I shall let you rest.

But the most important travel will go to Thorong La in Nepal. We had had much in common to talk about, but went separate routes up to the pass. At the top at almost 18,000 feet we met again, and Surain - having heard that I was going to India, you asked: Can I go with you? That is where it all started, on November 3rd, 1977. On November 3rd, exactly 25 years later, I will let you rest there.

I will save some ashes in case I reach other magic spaces where we have been. And will let you rest on some of the coral reefs you loved so much.

Dearest Rain:

How can I thank you for the beautiful life you have given me? For all these ways of human behavior you have taught me? For all your tender care? Never will I forget the loving care you gave to me when I was sick, when for three months I could not take care of myself, and slowly got sicker and sicker, and my life seemed to fade away?

It is almost impossible to imagine your situation, if you haven't lived it yourself. How can it be, that such a happy and loved person is told, that it will soon be no more? I remember the emptiness I felt, the feeling of being cheated of the rest of my life, the feeling of not being ready - but for me, the dying aortic valve was found and could be replaced and I could gain life back again. For you, there is no such miracle cure, no way to break the bonds of cancer of the meningis.

I remember the pride I always felt when introducing you to a person you hadn't met. This is my wife, isn't she wonderful? I felt like saying. But I know I share this excitement with many people - excitement over you, your laughter, your enthusiasm, your way of making things happen, your multi-ethnical interests, your conservation-mindedness, and your spirit in so many other ways.

Yes, you will be missed sorely. The many lives you have touched will never be the same again without you. I do not even dare to think about a life without you.