Compass to Healing: My Journey to Wellness

Golden Valley, Theodore Roosevelt National Park, ND Willy and I rise early the next morning. We want to watch the sun come up over Golden Valley. I notice a text has come in on my phone. I pick it up and pull up the message. “Oh no,” I exclaim. “What is it?” Willy asks. “It’s Alexa. Her Dad passed away last night. She said it happened just before sunrise.“ “That is tough,” Willy replies. “He was suffering so much at the end. But Willy, she is going to miss him so much. They talked all the time. When she needed to work something out she would call him. He was not only her Dad but her best friend, and her mentor and counselor too.” Tears come to my eyes. “I am so sad for her.” Willy remains quiet, listening. “Let’s go see the sunrise,” I say. We load up and drive a few miles to a viewing area of the canyon in Golden Valley just as the sun is beginning to emerge beyond the horizon. We hop out and walk over to the fence to watch the sunrise. “We better get back in the camper,” Willy says to me quietly, pointing to our right. “Look.” I turn and see a large, black bison - a bull - walking slowly and calmly towards us. “Yes,” I whisper, walking back to the camper and quietly closing the door behind me. “Look at him. He is so beautiful.” And so we sit, taking in the beauty of the canyon in the early morning silence. To our right the bison comes closer, walking confidently alongside the fence at which we are parked. He takes his time, pausing from time to time to eat prairie grass. We wait and watch the sun and the bison’s progress across our path. The bison continues west along the fence, eventually disappearing out of sight behind a building on the other side of the parking lot. Ahead of us, we witness the transformation of the landscape as the sun makes it over the crest of the canyon, turning the valley below, to gold. We remain for a few minutes, savoring the sight in front of us before starting up the camper and pulling back onto the road. We continue our journey west, crossing into the state of Montana. “Take the next exit.” The voice. I am startled. It has been about a week since I last heard the voice. “Willy, do you mind going off at the next exit?” I ask. “Sure. Where do you want to go?” he asks. I scan both sides of the highway. “I am not sure. It was the voice again just now. It just said to take the next exit.” “Sure,” Willy says, nonplussed. We drive another mile or so and see a sign for a tourist bureau at the next exit. I speculate. Perhaps we will receive directions to go somewhere and see something. As we approach the exit a tall cross on our right, comes into view. “Let’s stop at the tourist bureau,” I say. “I’d like to have a look there.” We pull off of the highway and turn left at the top of the exit to head over to the tourist bureau. We pull into the parking lot, and find the building closed. Not surprising. It is not quite seven in the morning. I scan the posters on the information board outside the office. Nothing jumps out at me. Frowning, I say to Willy, “Do you mind if we go have a look at the cross on the other side of the exit?” “Sure,” he replies agreeably, and we hop back into the camper again. We cross back over the overpass to the other side of the highway, and pull into a small gravel parking area in front of a simple stone monument and the tall cross we saw from the highway. The monument is marked, Wibaux Montana Historical Site. On it is engraved, This monument is dedicated to the hardy pioneers who settled this area of eastern Montana prior to 1900 to take advantage of government grant land called homesteads. They came by horseback, covered wagon and train, some using immigrant train car. Some left behind families, saying good-bye to parents, brothers and sisters. It was a significant challenge to travel such long distances. Roads were generally nonexistent. Locating food and water was often difficult, however they were people of courage. They had a strong desire to start anew in the west, a land of opportunity. They came for adventure, health and prosperity. Some came for religious or political freedom. Whatever the reason, they gave birth to the Wibaux county. May God bless those of you who read these words and grant you safe travel on your journey wherever it may lead. Behind the monument, the cross stands tall, facing east in one direction, and west in the other. On either side of the cross are plaques bearing the same inscription, We thank you Lord for the beautiful sunset and pray for a sunrise tomorrow. Sunrise, sunset, alpha, omega. Beginning and End. I think of Alexa’s Dad who passed away just before sunrise. Tears come into my eyes. I smile, grateful for the messages on the monument and on the cross. I take pictures of the cross, plaques, and their messages to send to Alexa. It feels to me like these messages are for her. To encourage her. But I feel like they are for me too. I feel like they are for all who are headed west with a strong desire to start anew.