I know parents who grieve their children flying the nest. They want to keep them close, maybe even help them build a nest next door, preferably with an in-law apartment.

That’s not me.

I was always excited to see where my chicks would land. Still, I never envisioned my son flapping himself 5000 miles from home, settling in a place where bald eagles are as common as pigeons.

 

 

Foiled Plans

Coronavirus kept us apart— spoiled a big family trip planned for the summer of 2020. The pandemic meant that the last time I felt Jacques’ signature bear hug was September 2019.

Unheard of. Unacceptable. Unfortunately, unavoidable.

Alaska shut itself up, closed itself off. Rightly so. Juneau only had something like 6 ventilators.

A relatively tricky place to get to on a good day became an impossible journey. So, as soon as the vaccine was available, and Alaska opened its doors a crack… I was on a plane.

 

 

Reunion

This photo is goofy because that’s how we are together. Even so, I had some pretty conflicting emotions on the inside.

Leading up to the trip I had a lot of anxiety. In our traditional roles, Jacques and I had always been so close as mother and son, with me as the leader and him as the follower. I suspected those roles were about to flip, and I didn’t know how that would feel.

I didn’t know if I could do it gracefully.

It felt like I was losing something I had spent twenty-three years building. Still, it also felt like if I could accept the change, I might gain something equally as fulfilling— something to carry us through the rest of our lifetimes.

No pressure there.

 

Overwhelmed

When I stepped out of the airport, I realized just how far Juneau is from Massachusetts. You don’t just wind up in Juneau; you decide to come here. It’s an effort. You have to want it.

Even from the parking lot of the airport, the mountains bear down on you. I felt myself shrinking inward, surrounded in every direction by impossibly tall, intimidating peaks. They seemed to rise straight out of the ocean.

At home, mountains are a destination. We pack our flannel shirts, Bean Boots, and Yeti thermoses full of peppermint tea and head out. The mountains of New Hampshire are a friend in the distance that you gradually approach and arrive at with plenty of time to acclimate to their majesty. Here the mountains are all up in your face and are like, “Hey, who’s up for an avalanche?”

Downtown Juneau has a wild west, gold rush vibe. The buildings are eclectic, and the area is relatively small. There are only a few blocks of stores and restaurants. The mountainous backdrop reminded me of what a Swiss village might look like. I asked Jacques if he felt like Juneau was home the moment he got here and, he said— yes.

If I didn’t know it before, I knew it at that moment. Jacques is never coming back to the east coast. His spirit and his imagination are too big for little ole’ New England.

 

 

Acclimating

Juneau is VERY wet. While I was visiting in April, it was either drizzling, raining, or snowing. It’s also verdant, AF. The trees grow tall and straight and drip with moss. The earth (what isn’t covered in snow) is spongy and soft. There is water everywhere— the channel, bays, rivers, and glorious waterfalls. To add to that soggy picture, the forecast predicted ten straight days of rain during my visit.

Jacques is a professional guide on Mendenhall Glacier, so naturally, that was our first stop. I wanted to see where my kid has spent the last two years giving tourists and trekkers the experience of a lifetime.

 

 

Tongass National Forest covers 16.4 million acres and is the largest intact temperate rain forest in the world. This portion that we hiked in Juneau is but a speck of the total forest.

Over the years, as the glacier recedes, the trees move in— Alder, Cottonwood, Spruce, and Hemlock. The moss covering the trees is Sphagnum Moss (thick and poofy) and Old Man’s beard (light and whispy). I freaking love moss.

 

Fun Fact:

All the fun facts in this post are facts Jacques gave me while we adventured. When he was in school (which he hated), he couldn’t memorize his spelling list to save his life. Now he has an encyclopedic knowledge of Alaskan floral, fauna, geography, history of the land, and the indigenous people.

He is an epic tour guide and living, breathing proof that spelling lists do not a lifelong learner make.

 

Walking Away

A lot of my photos of Jacques are of him walking away. I mean, he’s 6 foot 4, I’m 5 foot 6, keeping up is an effort. Still, the overarching sense I had when documenting this trip was of him moving forward— confidently and without me, while I watched from a distance.

It didn’t make me sad, exactly. I felt like I had a unique window into his growth, like those trees that spring up in the absence of the glacier. It seems like nothing is happening, nothing is growing, and then one day— Bam! Nature went and built itself a forest while you were out getting coffee.

Part of Jacques’ new life is built around lovely Juneau native, Catherine. While we were running errands and she was distracted, Jacques told me she was the “one.”

But I already knew… it didn’t take a spelling genius to figure that one out.

The Pinnacle

The pinnacle (literally and figuratively) of my trip was a trek out and onto Mendenhall Glacier. I knew going into it that it would push me out of my comfort zone. It was more of a shove than a push.

Jacques is passionate about the effect climate change has on this planet because he has seen the glacier recede at an alarming rate over the past few years. Going into this hike, I understood that if I didn’t make it onto the glacier now, I might not ever, as the access points are disappearing. I was nervous about disappointing myself by letting my fear of heights or physical weakness stop me from getting up there. I wanted Jacques to show me the glacier through his eyes, so I told myself I would complete the entire trip, no matter what.

 

 

I hadn’t anticipated the trek out to the glacier would be 3/4 of the total trip— an 8-mile hike through forests and over a boulder-strewn landscape. As it turned out, the journey to the glacier was much more of a challenge than the glacier itself.

When we left that morning, there was already a lot of snow on the ground, and it was snowing lightly. I loved the addition of the falling snow, especially in the forest. Still, Jacques was worried it would ruin our views of the glacier.

 

As we made the journey, I came to understand the physicality of Jacques’ job. He carries a pack that easily weighs 50 pounds. Our hike took 9 hours, and Jacques had to break trail through knee-deep snow for a good portion of that time. Catherine and I followed behind, stepping in his giant footsteps.

All the while, Jacques is giving us information about what we’re seeing. He’s incredibly knowledgeable about the area; the trees, the glacier’s history and features, and how they are changing due to global warming. Not to mention, all the things you must and mustn’t do to stay safe.

On top of that, as a guide, he has to keep everyone’s spirits up while they are doing a physically grueling activity. He has a bottomless repertoire of bad jokes. Not sure if those help the tips at the end of the trip or hurt them.

What’s the difference between a glacier guide and a park bench? The bench can support a family. LOL.

 

Jacques is so good at what he does; I completely trusted him to keep me safe the whole time. It was a mind-blowing, table-turning experience to have HIM looking out for ME.

That photo on the left was the scariest part of the trip. It was very steep and very icy. Jacques insists that he has to carry people down that section on sunny, dry days and that I’m a total badass. He’s a good kid.

 

 

I knew leading up to this trip that I was gearing up to meet my son as a man— independent of me, with his own established life.

The unknowns caused me some melancholy feelings, but that all changed when we got up on the ice. When I saw how competent Jacques was, when I experienced his kindness and caring, any trepidation I had about starting a new kind of relationship melted away.

This is a person that I want as a friend.

I felt pride, relief, and pure joy. It was natural and right to release nearly a quarter of a century of mom-control and start year one of our friendship as adults.

The two photos below are my favorite from the trip. The shot on the right is Jacques holding my hand, helping me safely past a crevasse.

Sometimes the Universe rewards you.

I didn’t need more than what I had just experienced. I came to visit my son and see him as a different person than the one who left home in a converted school bus three years earlier. Bonus—I got to do those things in one of the most awe-inspiring places on the planet. I did not expect a second bonus.

On our way off the glacier, Jacques decided we should take a side trip to see if we could find an ice conduit. He suspected there was one nearby. Unfortunately, ice conduits appear and disappear daily so, no guarantees it would still be there or more importantly, safe to enter. Ice caves are extremely unstable. The bottom of an ice conduit hovers above a river of glacial water running from the glacier to the glacial lake. Falling through the floor of an ice conduit is not going to end well.

Jacques entered first to check it was safe.

 

I cannot begin to describe to you the intense feeling I experienced stepping into this icy underworld. The color, so vibrant, so unlike anything I had ever experienced, stole my breath away. All I could do was cry. It was so unfathomably beautiful.

 

I have never seen a color so gorgeous. My mind could not process it. It was completely new information for my brain. With nothing to measure it against or compare it to, I had no words.

The walls were deep to bright blue to purple and lightly translucent. I half expected to see ancient creatures frozen inside.

 

Four Things Alaska and Jacques taught me:

#1.

I need to spend more time outdoors and out of my comfort zone. I felt so alive on this trip.

 

 

#2.

I never understood where Jacques gets his fortitude and adventurous spirit. Mainly because I NEVER would have had the confidence to do anything like this at his age.

Now I understand, he had to get that spirit from somewhere. I am a badass.

 

#3.

Jacques is now 100 percent responsible for his own happiness. Accepting that was hard, but once I did— such a relief. I trust him to make good decisions for himself.

 

#4.

I’m walking away too. I’m moving toward the next chapter in my life. In this chapter, my personal growth and adventures will come first. I’m ready.

 

Thank you Alaska and thank you, Jacques. Being a mom has taught me the greatest lessons of my life.

Love you to the moon and back,

Mom