Walking with Rattana on Mill Creek Trail
Rattana was an artist. She began to paint in 1994, when we moved to Myanmar, studying oil painting with an old Burmese gentleman named U Than Aung. When we moved to Quincy in 1999, Rattana took art classes at Feather River College and became close friends with one the art teachers, Dianne. They often went for long walks together and I especially remember one day when they went for a hike somewhere out in the forest. Rattana came home with a big smile and a bunch of fresh porcini mushrooms that became the main ingredient of a Cambodian stir-fry. She told me about meeting a Japanese man, Taro, and walking with him to one of his “secret” mushroom places.
During late August of 2009, our friends Jim and Lynne invited us out for a hike on Mill Creek Trail. Rattana was in a great mood that day, a Saturday following a hard week of work at the pre-school she had at our home. She was also pleased to be walking on the Mill Creek trail, which she often hiked on with Dianne. With a gleam in her eyes she recalled the day that Taro had taken her and Dianne to hunt mushrooms.
Jim and Lynne led us to the rock outcropping that juts into the lake just before the trail turns toward Right Hand cove. The water was the perfect temperature for swimming. I swam about fifty yards out and began treading water as Rattana swam slowly toward me. Her face was all lit up by the sun and the glow of her smile. We held each other for a while and then swam together back to the rocks. Jim and Lynne broke out their homemade bread and goat cheese and we served up dried figs, jasmine tea, and chocolate. After eating, we all laid out for napping and reading. The afternoon drifted along like a dream of swimming, sunning, and friendly conversation. As twilight approached, we hiked back and drove to our homes in Quincy. It was the last, best day of Rattana's life.
Within a week, she began to have spasms in her left leg. A week later she fell in the garden. The doctors were mystified until October when she got an MRI that revealed two brain tumors. Early on a hot July afternoon, after ten months of suffering and unspeakable pain, Rattana died. After the mortuary took her body away, I went up to Buck's Lake with two of her best friends, Shelley and Anne. We hiked the Mill Creek trail to the same rocky point that Rattana had enjoyed so much on that hot August day with Jim and Lynne. This time there was no picnic and there was little conversation. Water was what we were there for. I swam and swam and swam.
For several years, I could not decide where to put Rattana's ashes. Cambodia was an option, but I felt like Plumas County was her true home. But where in Plumas County? Eventually I remembered Mill Creek trail and her joy in being there. The next time I hiked there, I explored the woods, looking for a place for her ashes. I found a bronze urn at the base of a tree. So, her ashes would have company. A few days later, I returned with Rattana's ashes in a silver container that she had brought home from her last visit to Cambodia. I placed it on a ledge overlooking the swimming rocks.
When I returned the following summer, the container was gone. I have many thoughts about what happened to it. Perhaps ice, snow, and wind have pushed it off the ledge and hidden it in the brush. Perhaps a bear has taken it to its den. More likely someone spotted it and took it. If so, I like to think they opened it and left Rattana's ashes where they belong. Every time I hike out that way, I try to spend some time walking slowly around the area, hunting for the container the same way she hunted for mushrooms. As time passes, though, I feel less disappointment in not finding it. I am happy just to be out there, walking around slowly and aimlessly, walking with Rattana.
Wayne Cartwright, Quincy
During late August of 2009, our friends Jim and Lynne invited us out for a hike on Mill Creek Trail. Rattana was in a great mood that day, a Saturday following a hard week of work at the pre-school she had at our home. She was also pleased to be walking on the Mill Creek trail, which she often hiked on with Dianne. With a gleam in her eyes she recalled the day that Taro had taken her and Dianne to hunt mushrooms.
Jim and Lynne led us to the rock outcropping that juts into the lake just before the trail turns toward Right Hand cove. The water was the perfect temperature for swimming. I swam about fifty yards out and began treading water as Rattana swam slowly toward me. Her face was all lit up by the sun and the glow of her smile. We held each other for a while and then swam together back to the rocks. Jim and Lynne broke out their homemade bread and goat cheese and we served up dried figs, jasmine tea, and chocolate. After eating, we all laid out for napping and reading. The afternoon drifted along like a dream of swimming, sunning, and friendly conversation. As twilight approached, we hiked back and drove to our homes in Quincy. It was the last, best day of Rattana's life.
Within a week, she began to have spasms in her left leg. A week later she fell in the garden. The doctors were mystified until October when she got an MRI that revealed two brain tumors. Early on a hot July afternoon, after ten months of suffering and unspeakable pain, Rattana died. After the mortuary took her body away, I went up to Buck's Lake with two of her best friends, Shelley and Anne. We hiked the Mill Creek trail to the same rocky point that Rattana had enjoyed so much on that hot August day with Jim and Lynne. This time there was no picnic and there was little conversation. Water was what we were there for. I swam and swam and swam.
For several years, I could not decide where to put Rattana's ashes. Cambodia was an option, but I felt like Plumas County was her true home. But where in Plumas County? Eventually I remembered Mill Creek trail and her joy in being there. The next time I hiked there, I explored the woods, looking for a place for her ashes. I found a bronze urn at the base of a tree. So, her ashes would have company. A few days later, I returned with Rattana's ashes in a silver container that she had brought home from her last visit to Cambodia. I placed it on a ledge overlooking the swimming rocks.
When I returned the following summer, the container was gone. I have many thoughts about what happened to it. Perhaps ice, snow, and wind have pushed it off the ledge and hidden it in the brush. Perhaps a bear has taken it to its den. More likely someone spotted it and took it. If so, I like to think they opened it and left Rattana's ashes where they belong. Every time I hike out that way, I try to spend some time walking slowly around the area, hunting for the container the same way she hunted for mushrooms. As time passes, though, I feel less disappointment in not finding it. I am happy just to be out there, walking around slowly and aimlessly, walking with Rattana.
Wayne Cartwright, Quincy
