Five years ago today, my sister-in-law Wendy drowned while vacationing in Mexico with her husband.
It was eight years ago that she joined Erin and I for a trip halfway across the continent to visit Michael and Rosemarie in Pierre, South Dakota, where we experienced a 40’C dry heat, travelled to Rapid City, saw Mount Rushmore and the Crazy Horse memorial, and climbed the little Devil’s Tower — which would be the highest I’d ever be (by elevation, and by practically every other measure) since birth.
I remember that climb. We were near the summit and Erin and I were getting tired. It was getting late and the terrain was getting a lot more rugged. But Wendy had gone on ahead, and she called us forward. She could see the summit, and she knew that it would be well worth it to reach the top. We pushed on, and got to see the sun setting over the Black Hills.
I know she would have been a fantastic aunt for Vivian and Nora. I miss her terribly.