The Summit Within: Reflections on Love, Loss, and Living Fully

In The Hunchback of Notre Dame, Victo Hugo writes that thirteenth century Dante is the last Romanesque church and sixteenth century Shakespeare is the last Gothic cathedral. The book of stone must be admired and perused incessantly. The compendium of printed books is a hive which produces all imaginations.

At a certain hour on brilliant days in March, the sun’s rays withdraw from the pavement and move up the façade of the Notre Dame. At this hour, several young girls laugh and chat with grace and mirth. The four maidens are in the charge of Madame Aloïse de Gondelaurier.

Master Jehan decides to descend from the tower intent on using his brother’s money to get drunk. He casts a glance of tenderness and admiration to the interior of the pouch. Holding his laughter inside after elbowed someone who let out a growl, he emerged on the Place, laughing heartily.

By listening intently, a man in a mantle catches an interesting conversation between Jehan and the captain. The captain insists he is running late for an appointment with a woman. Jehan compares the captain to the “Château de Dampmartin, which is bursting with laughter.”

Some days later, Gringoire passes a considerable crowd at the Palais de Justice. He asks a young man coming out—Jehan—what is going on. Learning who he is, he doesn’t dare tell him that his is acquainted with his brother.

The cellars of an edifice form another edifice. A condemned person at the fortress of Saint-Antoine would have felt a pile of stone and jailers weighing upon their head. Esmerelda is imprisoned in a sloping cavity of one of the oubliettes, in an inpace of the Tournelle, condemned to death.

Fluer-de-Ly’s reproaches to Phoebus expire in tender cooing. The captain leans over the back of her chair. She aks what has become of him for the past two months.

No longer knowing where he is, Claude Frollo blindly just goes forward. He continues his flight as long as he can see. He plunges to his heart’s content in evil thoughts.

A friend took me out for my sixtieth birthday just over a week ago. Another friend sang happy birthday to me over the phone. I had close to four hundred birthday salutations on Facebook, and made sure to like each and every one. I wonder if my friend knows how special it was singing Happy Birthday to me over the phone. My mom can’t do that anymore. I miss her.

The next day I made tamales. I had started it the day before, but ran out of time before I attended the Veteran’s Committee meeting and then headed out for the birthday dinner. Needless to say, my kitchen was a mess, and I finally got the whole thing cleaned up the following day. My father and the military always used to hammer home that “the job’s not done until everthing is picked up and put away.” My dad used it when referring to working on the cars in the garage or doing yardwork. It applies just as equally to the kitchen.

Watching Chi--which by Season 5 has introduced at least two strong trans-feminine characters--the question was asked, “If you had a super-power, what would it be?” I thought about it for a while and I would love to have the super-power of loving-kindness. Imagine walking into a room, and everyone there feeling loving-kindness to everyone else in the room. Imagine what could be accomplished in that room without all the divisiveness, filled with people actually caring for one another to listen to them and not want to cause them suffering. It would be phenomenal. I can imagine its power in a legislative committee meeting. Of course, the effect would have to be permanent, otherwise, everything might revert back to divisiveness.

My first shot at tamales turned out great. I found it helpful that the recipe in the book had pictures on how to roll and fold them. When they were done and I took a bite, I found that they bit back. It's amazing what one little serrano pepper can do. The Instant Pot recipe itself saved me hours. Someday, I will have more than just myself to cook for.

In James, by Percival Everett, James takes pleasure in the thought that if Huck is able to make it back without detection, he could bring the much desired and needed news of his familiy’s condition. Returning to the cave, James eats some dried fish and falls into a nap. He can’t chance constructing a proper raft near the water’s edge while he waits for Huck’s return.

In the big hand he is not using to Jim’s face, Norman holds a flat tin. James asks what it is. Cassidy says that Norman needs to put some white around James’s eyes and mouth first. Norman replies that he was thinking about applying it after. Cassidy confirms that Norman is the expert, after which James once again asks what’s in the tin. Norman tells him its boot black and “had as hell to wash off.”

James remembers not being surprised by the relish that he could feel in a second blow of leather coming from Judge Thatcher in response to him replying with, “Hello,” when a young white woman told him hello. A short, round, and heavily bearded man approaches calling. “Hey there!” Jim whispers to Norman to say hello.

On Thursday, I met with the Utah County Democratic Party Secretary to discuss creating a Stonewall Dems caucus for the county. The questions were about how to organize it with the state caucus. My concerns were with making sure it was created in a way that it have some sustainability. In the past, affiliates have not lasted long, since they had shallow leadership, sometimes only a Chair and a secretary. They also are not at the point where their county’s candidates are seeking endorsement by the Stonewall Dems. There is fear that just being idenitifed as a Democrat will be enough to lose a race, especially if you are supported by the LGBTQ+ community. That is definitely a status quo we don't want to remain. Like in Salt Lake County, the endorsement should mean something and be something candidates desire. We’ll get there.

Meanwhile, they should mount a monthly community service campaign that benefits the queer and LGBTQ+ community, something like our volunteer breakfasts at the VOA Homeless Youth Center or our Queer Coffees. Eventually, by making a name for themselves, endorsement requests may start rolling in. At that point, it would be wise for them to also affiliate as a caucus with the Utah County Democratic Party. One step at a time.

I also asked the Secretary of the Utah State Party to see what the could do to clear any hurdles they might face.

That evening, I attended the Good Trouble Lives On rally in honor of John Lewis. We were given an account of protests that he had been involved in from Sit-Ins to the Selma-Pettis Bridge. He remained nonviolent even though he was subjugated to violence again and again. The voices were powerful, including the trans feminine musician that regaled her with her pieces, as well as encouraging messages from local leadership. The Women's Democratic Club and the Progressive Caucus also tabled at the event.

The following day, on Friday, I had my 3D tomography scan for my first of two annual breask examinations. Compared to other methods, the process was certainly less painful, even though four scans were taken at awkward angles. Seeing the lockers named after famous women, I shared a locker with Justice Sonia Sotomayer. The results have come back, and they are recommending that I schedule an MRI for six months from now. I have a follow-up in September with my new primary care provider and see if he concurs. Early detection is critical, especially if like me, your family has a history of breast cancer.

Sunday evening, I joined a group to hike the Living Room Trail overlooking the Red Butte Garden where Los Lobos was playing. Driving around the Natural History Museum parking lot, it was unclear if parking was allowed at that time or not, so I parked a quarter of a mile down the hill, and hiked up to the parking lot. The sun was out, and it was brutal when I arrived about 5 pm at the staircase to the trail on the southeastern corner of the museum leading up from the parking lot. The only shade I could find was on the stairs.

Eventually, other people showed up, parking near the stairs, and we got to talking. Fortunately, the sky was a mostly cloudy about that time, and closer to 7 pm, we left the shade of the staircase started up the switchback. I was trailing behind everyone for quite a ways and started to get really exhausted. Finally, when everyone stopped to take a break, I have to lie down and prop myself up on a railroad tie.

My pulse kicked back down, and we set off again up the slope. The exposure continued to beat down on me, until I realized that I needed to stop and sit down before I fell down. I let the group near me know that point was my limit. My pulse had once again spiked up to 120 beats per minute. I found a somewhat comfortable place to pull out my book and read while I waiting for my pulse to drop below a hundred again. I let the group head on without me.

As they headed up the hill, I heard someone calling out my name. When I went to check, they waved at me, and Tom yelled it was great to meet me. I yelled out “same for me.” It feels so good to finally meet someone who genuinely cares about you, and they let it show. I find it easy to bond to someone when caring comes first. He wore an old faded Pink Floyd T-shirt, and when were talking earlier I learned that he was a structural engineer. I would love to meet up with him again. On the meetup group page, it made me happy to see that he had posted a couple of beautiful photos from the lookout, the same kinds of photos I would have taken.

That trip for me was a reminder that it is not always about making the summit, and sometimes its not the outward journey, though that can help. Sometimes, it’s just about your own personal journey, and finding your own summit, even if it’s not the top—this time. No, by reaching my summit, it opened a panaorama within me to allow me to see the beauty around me, not just in the landscape, but in the people sharing the landscape, and with whom I was sharing the journey.

In the rhythms of literature, memory, activism, and everyday acts of courage, we are reminded that life’s most profound beauty often emerges in the quiet summits we reach within ourselves. Whether in the warm embrace of birthday wishes, the laughter shared over tamales, or a gentle voice singing “Happy Birthday” across a phone line—each moment becomes a sacred thread in the fabric of our story. We do not need to conquer every mountain to find meaning; sometimes, it is enough to pause, to breathe, to connect, and to feel seen. In embracing our full selves, in showing up with loving-kindness, we light the path for others—and in doing so, we transform the journey into something deeply powerful and undeniably human.