Up on the mountain

I drove up onto the mountain today. The same mountain that is the final resting place of my father's ashes. I sat there this morning and had breakfast with my dad. I sat on Dad's mountain and stared at the view he has. The early morning mists were rising from the valley below as the wind swept through. The ancient Applachians rolled through the distance seemingly forever. In the distance the birds heralded the new day as the sun warmed the boulders strewn about. The trees stood as silent sentinels guarding the secrets of the mountain. The thoughts, emotions and whispered words there at Dad's mountain. I realized as I sat there that this where Dad wanted to be... On top of the mountain he hiked as a young man, the mountain that overlooked the valley in which he'd lived most of his life, the mountain where one could truly see what was important in life... Not the meaningless trifles and baubles we stress over but the immaterial intangibles that really make a life. I sat there and thought of the man my father was. What he meant to me, how he helped shape me into the person I am today and I thanked him again. My father is at peace and I found some on his mountain too.