We had planned a trip to the mountains last weekend. I was going to take a well deserved day off on Friday and we were going to go and look at the leaves so to speak. I was very excited, not only had I never been up to the mountains during fall colour time but we had never, in all the time that she has been visiting us here, been able to take Mum to the mountains so I really wanted to show her Cherokee. I woke fairly early on Friday morning and heard that Mum and Norman were already up and about. Mum came into the bedroom with half a cup of strong sweet tea and said simply "he's gone Dawn". In those few words I knew I had lost my beloved Uncle Tommy. It took a while for those words to sink in and I sat, with Mum for a few minutes while she wiped the tears away from her eyes. I didn't want to cry, I knew it would make things worse for her so I just sat and cuddled her while she wept gently. I got "busy" then, getting ready to take the car in for a service prior to its long drive. As I pottered around down stairs I suddenly remembered a dream I had had the night before.

Me and Mum had gone to the hospital to see him. As we walked down the long corridor to where I presumed his room was we saw him. He wasn't in a bed or in a room, he was sat in a waiting room with some other people. I looked at him and smiled "well look at you, you don't look sick to me you look just fine" and he did, he looked as he always did in life, a sparkle in his eye and a mischievous grin on his lips. "That's because I am fine" he said to me. As I recalled the dream I realized that more than likely it wasn't a dream at all, it was his way of letting me know that everything was going to be okay and he was "fine." I told Mum, and she knew immediately what I knew. That he was "fine" and that we should not so much grieve his passing as celebrate his life which he lived to the fullest every single day. I shall miss him terribly.

The drive to the mountains was somewhat subdued as one can only imagine but I could feel my spirits rising as we approached the foothills and the car began to climb. Small dots of colour could be seen in the trees but the majority of them were still green. There was a point though, (and I cannot remember at which point in the road) where we turned a curve and suddenly there were the Blue Ridge mountains stretched out before us. Colour was everywhere, as if a huge patchwork quilt had been laid across them.

By the time we got to Maggie Valley it was dark so we quickly checked into our Motel and set about finding some dinner. After dinner we were all weary so we took Mum and Norman back to the motel and Nick and I went out for a beer. After a couple of glasses of wine with dinner and then a few beers the emotion inside of me welled up and spilled over. I cried and cried, and then when I was done I cried a little more. I cried myself to sleep.

The next morning I woke and saw in the mirror that I looked like I had done several rounds with Mike Tyson the night before. My eyes were puffy and almost swollen shut. No amount of a cold face cloth would do anything with them so I went outside to get Mum and Norman for breakfast. This is the sight that greeted me.



I stood for a moment and breathed deeply of the cool mountain air and took in the sight. We set off for Cherokee and in search of breakfast by way of the Blue Ridge Parkway. It truly was a sight to behold. The colours were intoxicating. Greens, golds, reds, rusts, every colour one could imagine leaves turning was there. Around every corner there was another spectacular view and thankfully the weather was clear and you could see for miles. Taking photographs was a little like shooting fish in a barrel. Even through the car window while moving.



Eventually we got to Cherokee and sought out breakfast, not an easy task considering that the entire population appeared to have decided to visit Cherokee that weekend. After breakfast we headed to the Cherokee Village for a tour and then let Mum do her Mum thing, that is dragging Norman round the museum. A little time for lunch, then for shopping and we headed to Waynesville for happy hour at the Irish Pub. Dinner and then sleep. It had been a good day and the various driving times had given Mum the opportunity to regale us with stories of her and Tommy as children. I think it helped her cope.

On Sunday we got up with the intention of heading to Grandfather Mountain by way of the Parkway but unfortunately after a leisurely breakfast we determined that time was not on our side and heading back home once we reached Ashville was the best course of action. Luckily I got the opportunity to stop several times and take more photographs, as the scenery just kept getting better and better.




When we got home I quickly began an upload of my photographs and got on with making dinner for us and of course feeding the pets. When I went back to the computer I briefly checked the shots on the screen and then merrily deleted them from my memory card. A short time later I went back to print off some shots for Mum and couldn't find them. They were gone. The computer it would appear had eaten them. I was beside myself. After a severe panic session the following day I managed to get some help from some very nice photography friends of mine and the photographs were retrieved. Much to everyone's relief not least mine. It does prove one point though. When you are uploading photographs of things that you cannot simply go back and "reshoot" do it VERY VERY CAREFULLY.

Tomorrow is the funeral. I think I shall attend in spirit and post some of my fondest memories of my dearest Uncle Tommy here. I think he would like that.