Död Amazon, By Olof Hedberg

Just at the point of today when I burst into tears at my desk while wishing that I could tell Hannah every funny thing, every dumb thing, every good thing, every any thing that has happened since she has died, my phone beeped with a text message from Olof, asking if he could borrow Granite Bunny for something he wrote about Hannah. It was like a comforting hug and high five. Nothing will ever replace Hannah, but to know how many hurt so deeply because we loved her so well is the best worst thing. Please enjoy his words, especially because Hannah used to tell him, "yeah, but my Swedish is pretty bad compared to your English."--Bethany

Död Amazon, by Olof Hedberg

All my life I have had the privilege to be surrounded by incredibly strong, independent and powerful women. Anyone who has met my mother knows that she is the last to bed and the first up in the morning. Early on she taught me that true life satisfaction is (for me maybe I should add) is reached by setting a goal and applying yourself towards it (then it actually doesn’t matter if you reach the goal or not - because you know you have done everything you can, so you are happy). My wife, Whitney, showed me that it doesn’t matter where you come from, but the only thing that matter is where you are going (hopefully together). And then comes the object of this blog - my best friend and co-worker for the last 4 years - Hannah. She showed me what it was to put in more work than the person that benefited from that work. There are kids that hardly cared about skiing, and couldn’t care less, but she gave them the same attention as the one that always had everything ready and followed every practice. Is that fair - I don’t know - but she was ready to pour her passion into anyone, no matter your level or dedication.

These three women have had huge impact on my life, One for now 4 decades, one for 14 years and the last one for 4 years. I’m going to digress a little on one thing I think they have in common - mental toughness. Mental toughness is a trait that I value very highly, probably because of the way I have been raised. The problem is that almost all people think they are mentally tough and have a strong mind. In today’s comfortable civilization there are not many times you can actually see if you are right.

Sure we can all pull an all nighter of work, sure we can break our finger on a mountain ridge and just snap it back into place, sure we can push ourselves in some athletic endeavor. I fully believe that is pretty easy and most humans can endure those things. Maybe that is why we all think we are tough. When it really comes down to it you won’t know how tough you are until you are cold, wet and scared (thanks Will). You have to be all three. Like when you shiver uncontrollably, through your wet clothes and start to fear that you might end up in the hospital - but smile and tell me that this is “no biggie”. Or when your cheeks are frost bitten and a storm is coming in so you dab for the Instagram and smile.

Me dabbing for the Instagram, as we had to abandon Plan A, Plan B and Plan C in the Gore range, due to an incoming storm. At this point we all have frostbite on our cheeks (and Hannah couldn’t feel her feet for some days) - or what Whitney, Hannah and I jokingly called permanent damage.

I don’t know if their mental toughness is why these women are so close to me or if it is just something I value in them - all I know it is one of the things that is so rare in today’s society and something that is hard to find. I also know it is one of the many things I respect so much in these women.

When the rock Hannah held on to broke loose and killed her in front of my eyes I did not know that Whitney was pregnant. Whitney and I found out 5 days later in a week I still don’t have any clear memories of. My life was already turned upside down, I couldn’t function - and I’m questionable if I still can. I have two huge holes inside me - one that is longing for what I now know is going to be my son, and one that is missing my best friend. My head knows that one of these holes is going to be filled with a tiny life. The other one will never be filled. It will shrink, it will transform and it will become workable, but it won’t be filled.

Right now my brain, my being, my soul can’t distinguish between the holes. People ask if I’m excited but honestly I’m just longing. I’m longing for the day that one of these holes will be filled. I would never expect, or put the pressure on my son, that he would fill both holes, or that he would transform the hole in my soul left by Hannah. The events are totally unrelated, and no human should ever have the pressure of taking another's place. All I know right now is that the feelings are too closely related - missing something that isn’t there yet/ missing something that will never be there again.

I’m not sure how to end this - or what to say. I know that I will do everything for my son to have a meaningful life, live with integrity, respect women, and smile when he is scared. I also know that he will never meet the warrior, Hannah Taylor. For that I am sad for him. I know there is so much he could have learned from her. I know she would have influenced his life, like mine has been influenced by strong women. I’m sad that he lost a role model he never met. So I’ll end with the last verse of Hjalmar Gullberg’s homage to Karin Boye - I don’t think there is anything more fitting.

För Thermopyle i vårt hjärta
måste några ge livet än.
Denna dag stiger ned till Hades,
följd av stolta hellenska män,
mycket mörk och med stora ögon
deras syster och döda vän