live. work. dream.

The past few weeks since we left the ranch have been a whirlwind of miles and emotions. We have lots of tales to tell, but our hearts and minds have been occupied with saying goodbye to our baby, our cancer hero who taught us the meaning of the word courage.

For the last several weeks, we’ve been unconsciously walking a fine line between helping him stay comfortable, and trying to keep him going because of our own selfish, human need to avoid the inevitable.

Everyone said he would tell us when he was ready to say goodbye, and last Friday morning, his eyes said it all. But acknowledging his wishes, and moving forward with our duty to release him from the pain of cancer, was one of the hardest things we’ve ever had to do.

Maybe Jerry waited for us to land someplace spectacular before he was ready to move on. He might have sensed that our jangled nerves were getting calmed by the soothing landscape of Yellowstone. It could’ve been the spirits of ancient prairie animals whispering his name. But most likely, he heard St. Francis calling him home.

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