21. Griffin
The Mile High City has done wonders for my mental health. My heart broke in Boston, but I began to heal in the mountains of Colorado.
It’s the beginning of September, so I need to report to training camp in a few weeks. This will be the start of my second full season with the Colorado Summits.
Last season I was a rookie, but I made sure my spot on this team was undeniable. I put up record points and won The Calder Memorial Trophy, which is the Rookie of the Year award.
Nights spent beneath the stars have replaced nights I used to party and close down the bars. There’s a reason I had such an amazing year last year. I don’t drink alcohol during the season, and I haven’t touched any drugs since I began therapy almost two years ago.
Being outdoors has been so healing. I can’t ski or snowboard due to my contract, which sucks when you live in a place that’s known for being the best place in the country to go for that. Instead, I’ve rekindled my love of hiking, camping, fishing, and hunting. And there are truly not many places in the country better to do those things either.
This weekend is Labor Day weekend. It will mark the two-year anniversary of Katie’s death. It feels like it’s been an eternity since that day, while also feeling like it was just yesterday.
The grasp grief held on my life has loosened, but I still feel the squeeze of its presence at the most random times. Grief is a bitch that way—just when you think you’ve moved on to acceptance, the anger, anguish, and pleading rush back and bring you to your knees.
Dealing with the loss of my mother at such a young age was difficult. But losing Katie broke me in a way I hope to never feel again. I haven’t let many people into my life since I lost Katie. No matter how much my therapist and I discussed it, I couldn’t bear it when I lost my sister and pushed away the love of my life. It didn’t seem fair—I could never replace them.
My life in Colorado isn’t lonely, but I’m more of a loner. The guys on the team deemed me the recluse rookie last year. They’d give me shit for never going out at the beginning of the season, but they stopped once I proved myself out on the ice.
I’m currently on my way to the airport to pick up my dad. He stayed in Boston, where he’s still the Chief of Surgery at the hospital. I tried to get him to move to Colorado with me, but he said he didn’t want to leave his job after only a few months. It may have also had something to do with the woman he started seeing shortly after I left for Colorado. Her name is Bethany, and she’s also a cardiologist at the hospital he works at, though she specializes in pediatrics. I’m happy for him, but I miss the shit out of him.
This weekend is a hard one for both of us. Last year, we went on a camping and fishing trip together out here. This year, we decided to make a tradition out of it and honor Katie the only way we know how: by spending time together.
Even though Katie mostly read books in a hammock on our camping trips growing up, she always loved to be outdoors. She would’ve loved Colorado as much as I do.
Two years has allowed me the time my heart needed to heal. I’m not sure I’ll ever be able to think of Katie without a wave of sadness flooding me, but I’ve moved past the anger and despair I felt every time I heard her name or thought of the life that was stolen from her.
I pull up to the departure terminal, where my dad said he’d be waiting for me. Going to the departures instead of the arrivals is a weird quirk my dad swears by. He must be on to something though, since there is minimal traffic here compared to the line I saw for arrivals.
My dad is waiting, leaning against a cement pillar with his hiking backpack and a duffle bag. I pull up to the curb and get out to give him a tight hug.
We’ve come a long way in two years—a testament to the weekly virtual therapy sessions we complete together.
“How was the flight, old man?”
He lightly smacks my arm. “Who are you calling old? I’m still a spry and steady surgeon. I’ve still got a few decades before you can justify calling me that.”
I shake my head at his nonsense. “Steady, maybe. Spry? We’ll see if you can put your money where your mouth is when we’re hiking to our fishing spot tomorrow,” I tease as I toss his bags in the back of my Jeep.
Our plan is to drive to Black Canyon of the Gunnison National Park today, which is almost a five-hour drive. We’ll stay at a hotel tonight and then get up early, get our campsite set up at the park, and hike to one of the trout streams. We like to fish as much as we can, and this National Park is supposed to have good trout fishing this time of year.
We’re about thirty minutes into the drive when my dad finally brings it up—the discussion I was hoping to avoid for at least a day or two.
“Did you hear Carson signed with Minnesota?”
“I did.” I grip the wheel a little tighter trying to ease the ache in my chest that comes any time I think of my former childhood best friend, which inevitably makes me think of his twin sister.
“They’re going to have a hell of a team this season. Carson will fill the gap they had on the second line after they traded Fuller.”
I hum in response, hoping he’ll get the hint that I don’t want to talk about this.
Clearly, he doesn’t pick up what I’m putting down because he continues, “It was just announced yesterday that Bennett Wilson will be the team captain this year for the Wolverines. I’m glad Carson will have him to look up to. Bennett has always had a good head on his shoulders.”
“He has,” I agree. Bennett is a year older than me, and his brother Jackson is Carson’s age. “Have you heard anything about Jackson signing with Minnesota? Or is he going to play another season for Harvard?” I ask.
“It sounds like they’re going to see how training camp goes before making a decision,” my dad replies.
I love playing for Colorado—it’s always been my dream team to play for. When I was drafted by them, I was ecstatic. But I can’t help but feel a pang of jealousy that Carson gets to play with Bennett and possibly Jackson, in our home state.
No matter where I live, Minnesota will always be home. How could it not be when I left my heart and soul there two years ago?