Like No Place On Earth

I have this vision in my mind I can’t get rid of…it’s been sitting there for while constantly transforming to mold to my current life status but always continuous. I have this dream to go to the Grand Tetons/ Jackson Hole, Wyoming. It’s a slight fairy tale that has transformed into this perfect vacation.

Close to 30 years ago my parents first paid eyes on each other while working at a lodge in Wyoming. I can picture my mom with hair down to her belly button, rocking a bandana for a top and my dad with a mustache resembling Burt Reynolds. She was a California Girl and he was a Veterinarian’s son from the South…she worked in housekeeping and he was a cook. It’s hard for me to picture how they interacted back then because I only know them as the divorced (completely different) people that they are today. I remember as a child we had an old ratty Wyoming tourist T shirt that displayed a cowboy holding his hat in the air while mid air on a horse and my dad’s old truck had mud flaps to match. I picture Out West to be scenic and relaxing and beautiful and alive. There were times I thought about following in my parent’s footsteps and working a summer in Wyoming like my sister had but due to her not-so-wonder experience and my school work it got pushed to the side. College turned into marriage and mommy hood and the ability (or desire) to be a young single girl working housekeeping at a lodge too many states away from my family faded. Now the desire is there again but this time it’s to take a wonderful vacation to Jackson Hole.

Seeing as I’ve never been skiing I picture Davy and I (and possibly others) flying into Jackson Hole in the dead of winter and flagging down a taxi to take us to Teton Village where we check into an old rustic (but incredibly nice of course) ski resort. I picture us fumbling over our feet trying to ski the slopes and taking the afternoons to enjoy the views and rest our bruised legs. I picture us sitting down outside drinking hot beverages saying to each other over and over again “This place is so beautiful. These mountains are so big. This air feels so good to breath in. I love the West.” I picture the evenings filled with walking the streets bundled in jackets, gloves, and scarves. I picture late nights sitting by the fire place playing card games or drinking hot chocolate. I picture sliding around the ice in a rental car trying to explore the area. I picture me demanding 10 different pictures next to the Red Wood forest. I picture feeling alive.