July 22 – Wednesday
I’m back at Denali. My roommate just returned from a day off shopping in Fairbanks. That's her favorite thing to do on a day off - 120 miles to town and the Princess shuttle takes us there and back. I said – The internet is down again? Yup, she said – again!
So here I am, writing in Word – setting down my thoughts on the blog – without the blog. Anyway, I’ll be calling Martin & Trudy- I can’t log onto my own blog anymore. I guess I went more than two weeks without touching it and now it doesn’t remember me. So much for modern technology.
I am not up for much talking about my sister Jan yet. It’s not that I’m not thinking about her. There are just not many words yet – and my ideas are still forming – but
My sister died Sunday morning at 10:27a.m.
I am grateful that I was able to get home so fast and spend two weeks with her, 24 hours a day, seven days a week, except for a couple of short breaks. We had time together. We talked. We listened. We held hands. She comforted me sometimes. Sometimes I comforted her, I hope. I slept with her at night. That way she could just touch me and I would know – she needed medicine or to go to the bathroom or whatever.
It was just like when the babies were small. I woke so easily – it was like we shared brainwaves all night –and the blessing of that is that I still wake in the night – and I hear her breathing – and I am comforted. I have felt at peace because I hear her breathe when I sleep.

There are 73 wildfires burning in Alaska. More than 1,000,000 acres have burned. One of the largest fires is at Nenana, the closest town to us. It has a gas station. On the way in, we could see it like a giant fieldburn in the valley – with smoke streaming into the sky. We are used to the air smelling of campfires here. My roommate said that on the way home from Fairbanks, the sky became so dark from the fires that it reminded her of the movie, Independence Day – when the spaceship made the world underneath it all dark – like a big, dark shadow. Since we don’t have nighttime up here - yet - , she says it made it so dark it SEEMED like night.
I got back here at about noon. We “dead-headed” it – that is, I caught a Princess bus coming to Denali to pick up tourists – but it was just the driver, his friend and me. (Dead-heading means driving the bus without passengers. His friend and I didn’t count as “real” passengers, of course!) The whole bus to ourselves. As soon as I arrived I got it into my head to change into my uniform and show up at the lodge – just in case everyone was busy and they could use me. I came in at the far end of the lodge and guests came to me with questions before I ever got to the desk. It was amazing to realize that in uniform, people thought I’d have the answers – even though I felt like someone who had just returned from a very long trip myself. And I did happen to be able to help with their questions. When I got to the desk, there were people standing deep in lines and I asked if they could use me. I got to get back to work on the spot and worked for about 8 hours. It was cathartic – I’m happily exhausted. I’m among dear friends, albeit new friends – people I am so glad I was able to come back to work with.
Tonight I teeter on the fence of two worlds, the one there that centers at 4th Street, with true and longtime friends whom I love like family, and the world up here of moose and beavers, of wildfires and sore feet and guests from all over and new friends who have prayed for my sister and who have been calling me. One of them bought a Hawaiian blouse for me for Friday – some kind of Hawaiian party and she wanted to be sure I could dress the part. I still don’t know where the party will be but I’ll be there – with friends.
I was home there in Lebanon – but I wasn’t really HOME. I stayed with my sister until the day another sister took over and then I slept all day and then she passed away and then I only sat in my lounge chair on the front porch reading my book and trying to be as still as my thoughts. I missed visiting with my friends – with a few tiny and terrific exceptions. I tried to attend church but that was when I learned of Jan’s death-and I needed to leave even before church began. I tasted the cherries on the trees in the back yard and I made a glutton of myself with my blueberries. I weeded only where the weeds were disgraceful – and I have a very loose definition of disgraceful when I see weeds and have little time.

Speaking of weeds, the Fireweed up here is extraordinary! Huge patches. How I wish I had a hive of bees to set in the middle of a patch – the very best honey in the world is Fireweed. One can actually can peaches with Fireweed honey – the taste is so mild.
I love Fireweed honey just on a spoon – it makes every other honey taste strong and way too sweet.
The Fireweed is all over wherever trees and tundra have been chopped back or burned – and the first thing to grow back after a forest fire is Fireweed. Next year there will be more than a million new acres of Fireweed. Perhaps a beehive will be necessary.