Not Without You

seven

Leo

The sweat dripping from my brow resembles nothing but the reward of making to the end of a moderate difficulty trail and staring at the intimidating waterfall ahead of me.

I had to travel forty-five minutes from Whistler to Squamish in order to reach Shannon Falls, but I'm here. I've completed another activity on the bucket list, the red checkmark clashing with the blue one.

And I have to say, Shannon Falls is one of the most stunning waterfalls I have ever seen. It's composed of a series of cliffs, rising about three-hundred-and-thirty-five metres above Highway 99, surrounded by a forest of alder. But what amazes me more than the view itself is the noise. It's a thunderous noise, reverberating from the rocky face to the leave of every alder and cedar tree.

While I want to get a closer look at what lies below, I must admit that my knees are shaking a little. The edge looks dangerous, laden with mossy and slippery rocks, and what lies below are equally as dangerous consequences. Although my curiosity is prominent, I would rather live and complete Dad's bucket list than fall to my inevitable death.

As I stare at the view, the cool mist from the waterfall cooling my heated skin, I wonder just how many times my dad climbed to the top of this peak and stared at the view of Squamish and the Stawamus Chief. I wonder what he thought about while standing here, viewing life from this rocky outcrop. I wonder how many times my mom was with him.

I sigh, running a hand through my hair. Maybe I'm wrong to be doing this alone. Maybe I should have brought a friend from New Brunswick on this trip with me. I love that I'm able to do all this, to reimagine what Dad enjoyed doing before he passed away, but it's somewhat lonely. I miss having someone to talk to, to take pictures with. As introverted as I can be, I wish I had someone here with me. Like I do at work.

Work.

Again, I sigh. Ever since I did my research on Aria Madden, I haven't been able to get her out of my head. Not because she's famous or rich. It's the fact that she doesn't seem like she's famous and rich. If Kolby hadn't of said anything, I never would have guessed her to be Canada's Golden Girl and have a considerably strong presence in the hockey world. Just recently, she attended a fundraising event with Benn, who is also a professional hockey player. There was a video of her doing a speech on why girls and woman should receive the same treatment men do in hockey, and when I found it, it had already reached over a million views.

Despite the information on the Internet for the world to see, I still feel like I've been prying too much. Her birthdate, nationality, and lineage all seem like something she should tell me.

I shake my head, returning my attention back to the scenery. It's awe-inspiring to see how the coasts of Canada differentiate when compared to each other. While the interior coast of New Brunswick is mainly composed of rolling plateaus and forests, the interior coast of British Columbia is definitive with its mountains and lakes and dense forests. The weather isn't too different, but the air quality is much different. Here, it's fresher, with only a hint of salt from the nearby ocean.