Finding Healing in the Mountains: A Sunset Goodbye

Grief can make you feel rooted, trapped, and even the smallest progress can seem like a huge accomplishment. For me, hiking became my way to move again physically, emotionally, and spiritually. During the first few months after Bryant’s death, I relied on distractions to get through each moment, sometimes just one minute at a time. Staying busy helped me avoid dwelling on the pain of my loss. Then I fell and became wheelchair bound for months while I recovered. Learning to walk again was slow progressing from a walker, to crutches to a cane and finally almost a year later I could walk unassisted.

One evening, nearly a year after I’d started hiking again, I found myself on the summit of a local mountain. I was hiking with my nephew, who was just beginning to embrace the trails I had grown to love. The sun was beginning its descent, painting the sky with hues of gold and orange, and we had just made it to the summit in time to catch the show.

I love taking pictures and I was afraid I was going to miss it completely. Without thinking, I ran the last stretch over the rocky outcrop to reach the top before the sun dipped below the horizon. It was my first run since the fall, a small yet monumental victory. I wasn’t just chasing the sunset; I was chasing the life I had thought I’d lost.

Sunsets became my way of saying goodbye to the weight of the day, letting go of the pain, the sadness, and the moments when grief felt insurmountable. Each sunset was a reminder that there was always a chance for a better tomorrow.

And then there were the sunrises. They carried the promise of hope, of new beginnings, and of strength I didn’t yet know I had.

That evening on the mountain with my nephew wasn’t just about the beauty of the sunset or the triumph of my first run. It was a moment of clarity: grief doesn’t define me. Healing is possible, even if it comes one step, or one run, at a time.

If you’re in the thick of grief, I encourage you to find your mountain. Maybe it’s a literal trail or perhaps just a quiet place where you can say goodbye to the hard days and welcome the possibility of brighter ones.

Hope, like the sunrise, always finds a way. There will be days you must look harder to find it, but trust me, it’s there.

“Have you ever found healing or hope in nature? If so, what moment stands out to you the most?”