Something Greater

way up high or down low, i'll go wherever you will go

So lately, been wondering

Who will be there to take my place

When I'm gone you'll need love to light the shadows on your face

If a great wave shall fall and fall upon us all

Then between the sand and stone, could you make it on your own

– The Calling, "Wherever you will go."

–

February 5th, 1901

Santa Ana, Orange County, California

2:33 P.M.

It had been three years since the journey to Shangri-La, and a lot of things had changed since then.

For one, Adelina had finally left her self-imposed exile and went to explore the world on her own, to experience her own adventures. She visited so many places, saw and discovered so many new things and met many new people – she got to choose her own new path and was thriving, truly. She got to experience the world after years of mourning, years of shutting herself away. She embraced the beautiful adventure that was life, allowing her spirit to run free.

(She even got to open up to her old friends and family after being silent with them for so long, visiting them a year later after that eventful April of 1898. She didn't tell them the entire story of what led to her breaking out of her cage, but she did tell the basics – of an adventure in the mountains, finishing what her late spouse had started before deciding it was time to go on her own journey.

"Well, it's about time you got out of that dusty mansion," her papá had said, blunt in tone. "We were beginning to worry you'd shut yourself off permanently, that you became a reclusa."

"What he means is," her mamá had then started, stepping in for her husband, "we're glad to hear that you're moving on, mija, and it's so good to see you again."

Adelina spent the rest of the visit talking with her parents, brothers and in-laws, catching up with all of them. She told all of her nieces and nephews – especially her youngest brother's new daughter, Imelda, who'd been born just a while before she'd visited – stories of her adventures, always answering whatever questions they had and encouraging their enthusiasm. It warmed her heart to her them cheer for her, and for one of them to say: "You're the coolest tía ever, Titi Adi!"

After this visit, she made a mental note to send letters and try to visit whenever she could, so that she could make up for those two years of being absent on her family.)

Another thing was that she had recently turned forty-one, celebrating her birthday by traveling to the Swiss Alps. Admittedly, when it was near the third day of the first month of the year, she had been a little nervous. She feared she was getting to old, that she would grow more wrinkles and grey hairs that would take ages to pluck out, that the adventurous blood that coursed through her veins would stop flowing, that she'd become a hag... but thankfully, she had been wrong. Her little midlife crisis ended as soon as the third day of January came, and she'd actually felt quite at ease as she reached her early forties. She had grown older and wiser with experience, feeling very accomplished.

And last of all, she and Lionel started writing to each other again. After years and years of bitter estrangement, their friendship was fixed by not only the Shangri-La expedition but also their letters, which they wrote every single day. The letters ranged from sharing the adventures they'd had to exchanging sketches and pictures of what glimpses they caught from said expeditions, to speaking of how their days went about and how life was going for them. Writing to each other helped them catch up on things, maintaining a good level of contact despite the large distance between them. It was one good, fun efficient way of making up for the lost time.