I didn't win

I entered this writing contest to win $3000 in hopes of buying Jared a new bike...but I didn't win. Here's the story in case you're interested.

The Best Day

I was nervous earlier that week because it had been raining, and I wasn't sure if we would have clear skies in Zermatt that weekend. I checked the weather five times a day. It was very important to me that the weekend be perfect. I wanted beautiful views of the mountain, and I wanted the sun to be shining brightly because that's what my father would have wanted. He loved the mountains, he loved trains, and he always dreamed about going to Switzerland. He had a photograph of the Matterhorn up in his study ever since I could remember. My father would have loved the gorgeous train ride from Zürich, through luscious green valleys and beneath jutting peaks.

Friday evening my mom and I met Jared at the train station. It was still really light at 7pm because it was mid-June, my father's favorite time of year. He loved the sun, the heat, the long days. It was still light enough to see the beautiful rocky cliff faces rising up on both sides as we traversed the valley floor. We switched trains twice, and the last train traveled up steep terrain into Zermatt, Switzerland, the small mountain town where the Matterhorn lay.

Two years ago, a few days before my father died, after a three year battle with a rare form of lymphoma, he made me promise to go visit the Matterhorn in Zermatt, Switzerland for him -- an adventure I didn't realize would come sooner rather than later. In June, on the first anniversary of his death, I married my sweetheart Jared. Soon after, Jared was reassigned to Zürich, Switzerland. The following year, my mother decided to come and visit us, to spend my father's favorite time of the year in his favorite country. We planned a trip to Zermatt for my father's birthday, also in June, to honor him.

The morning after our evening train ride, I woke up to perfectly clear blue skies. I opened the window to see a beautiful view of the extraordinary mountain. We got dressed and hopped out the door. The sky was a cerulean blue, forming a beautiful dark contrast with the bright summer-green foothills. We took a cogwheel train up a mountain opposite the Matterhorn for a great view. As the sun rose in the sky, the temperature climbed -- just how my father would have liked it. We went into the tiny chapel nearby, lit a candle for him, and set it apart from the others because my father was a bit of a recluse and loved his space. That’s partly why he so enjoyed spending time in the mountains.

We gazed in awe at the mountain from as many angles as possible that weekend. Being there with my husband, noticing the similarities between him and my father was a wonderful experience. My husband is calm and peaceful, and he likes to withdraw to a tranquil setting to read or to run, like my father did. When my father and I summited Ayers Rock in Australia seven years ago, I remember seeing him sitting cross-legged, away from the crowd, taking in the solitude of the desert. On this day, atop a mountain opposite the Matterhorn, my husband did the same.

Each view of the Matterhorn revealed a unique and striking aspect of its character. As the sun progressed across the sky, it cast new hues upon the mammoth mountain, much as the years had revealed my father's many quirks and strengths to me.

"Dad would have been in heaven here," I told my mother.

"He already is," she replied.