the dancer, the warrior, the sage and the guru.
gone not forgotten. such an impact was felt losing Alicia. then raijanna's death hit me so hard I was numb to everything. like leaf in a river. snowboarding didn't matter anymore. I hated even looking up at Mount Hood. for years of my life riding was my passion and focus. then firefighting was the only thing that matter. Jiu-Jitsu and MMA got put on the back burner. after the dust settled. I was alone again. at the banks of Cold River in a city I never wanted to be in. one step in front of the other. just another day without my best friends and riders... their lives shaped mine. Rest in Peace A.Neri. Rest in Peace R.Morrow... I'll always be your mountain lion my deepest condolences to both of you ladies.
Losing close friends can dramatically change the course of one’s life, especially when shared passions and experiences become reminders of absence. From my own experience, the transition from engaging in activities like snowboarding and martial arts to coping with grief is not straightforward. It often feels like drifting, much like being a leaf carried by a river, where familiar pursuits lose their meaning. In the wake of tragic loss, many find themselves reassessing what matters most. For some, a career or new responsibilities, such as firefighting, might offer a temporary refuge, a way to channel energy productively while healing emotionally. Yet, the heart often yearns to reconnect with those lost passions—be it the thrill of a mountain ride or the discipline of martial arts—even if it takes time. I found that honoring the memory of friends through acknowledgment and carrying on their legacy helps in the healing process. Saying "Rest in Peace A.Neri" and "Rest in Peace R.Morrow" is more than tribute; it's a commitment to keep their spirit alive within us. Life’s journey includes learning to take one step at a time, embracing solitude when necessary, and eventually rediscovering joy and purpose. Despite the numbness and periods of detachment, reconnecting with nature, whether standing at the banks of a quiet river or gazing at the mountains from afar, can gently inspire renewed engagement with life. Grief reshapes us but does not have to define us; it can deepen our resilience and appreciation for both the fleeting and enduring bonds that make us human. Sharing these reflections hopes to offer comfort to anyone navigating loss—an acknowledgment that while the pain is real and life irrevocably changed, there remains space for healing, memory, and new meaning beyond the shadows.