Bald River Falls, the Tellico River, Watts Bar Lake and Enjoying the Moment with my Mother

Bald River Falls with Branches after the Rain

In the fall, my mother qualified for hospice care and they were kind enough to get temporary out of state hospice contracts for us, so we could take her to Watts Bar Lake and the Smokies on a few trips. I will never forget these weekends. They brought my mother so much joy. This particular trip we stayed at the lake house on Watts Bar Lake and took a few drives including one to Bald River Falls, which is accessible by car. Being an avid hiker, I normally don’t go to such places but this was gorgeous. To get to the falls, you drive along the Tellico River for five miles before you arrive. We went there after a particularly rainy period and there were lots of branches caught in the edges of the plunge pool. The power of water was evident, but its graceful persistence was equally apparent. My mother was thrilled to see it. She shares that persistence and determination. In fact, when the hospice people came to see her, she said that she wasn’t interested in hospice or dying. Certainly that attitude has kept her going longer than most in her condition.

Mom at Bald River Falls

You park and then walk on this small bridge. On one side is the falls and on the other is the winding, rock-laden Tellico River. The obstacles in the water’s path were numerous, much as we face increasing issues as we age. But there was much to admire in the way it eddied and surged, always progressing towards an uncertain end. That it kept flowing was the important thing.

Following my father’s death and after Hurricane Irma destroyed her house, my mother decided to move to Asheville where I live. She hadn’t seen a wide open expanse of water since she left her home, which was on Sarasota Bay. She was so excited to be near the water again that we rented a pontoon boat we could push her wheelchair up to and went out on Watts Bar Lake. She was in heaven, overused and trite as that expression is. To feel the boat rock and the breeze, and feeling the warm sun on her face made her come alive. Yet, she was equally happy lounging and relaxing, letting all her worries slip away. How I wish the summer had continued longer, but water continues to flow along its course, seasons change, and heart failure has a way of making you obey the laws of nature, whether you accept the cycle of life or not.

Watts Bar Lake with Clouds and Islands

Below are a couple of images of mom enjoying the boat ride. This is how I want to remember her.

It isn’t always smooth sailing. There are clouds and often there is fog , whether on the water or over the land. We can’t escape that we don’t exactly know when we will meet our end, and sometimes fear about that can cloud our minds and make us fearful and reactive. All yoga and spiritual practices are ultimately preparing us to accept our own mortality. But for this long weekend, we did not think about all of that. Instead, we let nature show us how to be fully in the moment and appreciate each second.

Clouds, Watts Bar Lake

We would wake up and look out the windows and discover we were surrounded by fog. Life was slipping away and becoming unclear for my mother and I was having more trouble understanding her, but then the sun would shine again and suddenly we were filled with hope and purpose, even if that goal was only to make the most of that day before my mother tired again.

It was so kind of my fiancé Dave to open his house to us when my mother was in need of so much assistance. He even proposed that very day on the boat ride in my mother’s presence, so she would know I would not be alone after she’s gone.

Morning Light on the Lake from the Dock

My mother likely won’t make it until we go back next summer and its too difficult to travel with her now, but I will always have the memory of this weekend and the other trips we took and I know I’ll think of the wonderful time we had next time I’m standing on this dock.

I won’t be alone, but I will always miss her.