具體內(nèi)容放在我的首頁動(dòng)態(tài)介紹了

文章不重要

By Carrie Thompson

My son, Ben, 23 when he died, was always most at home when he was outside. The year after his death, I hiked 48 of the state’s tallest mountains in his memory. Every step, trail and summit — whether socked in or wide open — has been a way to heal.

我的兒子Ben離世的時(shí)候只有23歲，他生前是個(gè)喜歡戶外活動(dòng)的人，在戶外甚至要比在家里還自在。在他離世后的那一年，我徒步穿越了新罕布什爾州最高的48座山峰，以此來紀(jì)念他。每一步，每一條小道，每一個(gè)山頂，無論是跌跌撞撞，還是一路坦途，都是治愈之路。

About a month after his death, my husband and I hiked Carter Dome and Mount Hight, grief weighing heavy in our hearts and legs. Standing on the summit, I looked out across the mountains my son loved. For a moment, the magnitude of Ben’s death faded into the timeless expanse, and I could breathe.

大概在Ben離世后一個(gè)月，我和丈夫去了卡特穹頂和蒙特高山，喪子之痛讓我們心情壓抑，步伐沉重。站在山頂，我望向那些兒子曾熱愛的山峰。一時(shí)間，Ben離世所帶來的沉重打擊，逐漸消解在了永恒的浩瀚當(dāng)中，我仿佛終于喘了一口氣。