Trust, Completely

More than anything or anyone, I trust my husband. Although I knew this, as we've been married for over 20 years and been together almost 30, I know it now on a deeper physical level. We were rafting down the Nantahala River, and I was in the front of the ducky boat, my husband at the back. The stronger more experienced paddler is usually stationed at the rear to control the steering. I hadn't been whitewater rafting since a trip in upstate New York, when I was a young child. I didn't do much. In fact in the photo, my family members are all around me paddling and I've got my tiny hands tucked inside my life vest, trying to stay warm. They all have determined looks of concentration, and I just looked and smiled. But I digress.

We were rushing down the river, navigating considerably mild class II rapids towards the class III Nantahala Falls at the end of our trip. Class II is considered mild because there are intervals of upbeat-paced flow with no whitewater. I can't say I ever felt like I was in major danger, but of course there's a certain level of risk with any of these activities. The river flows fast and it can be unpredictable. The force can be strong and there is a lot of rock. The water is also incredibly cold and crisp, bearable for us that day because the air temperature was in the upper eighties or lower nineties.

We hit an area of rock, and my husband lost his balance trying to steer us clear of it. He went over and I had to grab his vest while he hung onto the side of the raft. Knowing I wouldn't have the strength to drag him back on, I just held on so he could catch his breath. Then he had to pull his entire body back on, I was there as a tether. I had enough strength to keep him close. He finally got himself aboard, and then we had to chase down his paddle that had gotten loose and was taking its own journey down the Nantahala! I gave up my paddle so he could steer us and I kept my eyes fixed on the runaway paddle. Within a few minutes, we were able to catch up to it, and Paul used my paddle to link onto his. We got it and we were back to business as usual.

I asked Paul if he was okay, and other than losing one of his favorite hats to the river, he caught his breath and assured me he was alright. As we settled back in, he told me he could have held on, but eventually realized any effort to contort himself to stay on, was likely to flip the boat and send me over as well. He didn't want that, so he "took a dive" for me. I smiled warmly and we continued down the river. We soon hit one of the quieter and calmer spots, when you have time time take in your surroundings. We admired some beautiful luxury cabins along the river's edge and fantasized about having one as a summer home. We watched other rafters struggle and some kayakers hotdogging.

And in that moment, I felt an assurance. It was a strange time and place but I said to my husband, "This may sound weird and corny coming from me at this moment, but I want you to know something... I would do anything with you. I trust you so completely. As long as you're with me I would do just about anything." I couldn't see his face, but he responded.

"That's good. That makes me feel really good." And I thought, me too.