Lost in Iceland

In our journey around the Ring Road, we lost many things.

My mother, weighed down by the ring that hung around her neck, chose herself to be the bearer of such a burden. She thought it was her duty, her task to carry this so no one else would have to. She argued with my sister that her ring should be thrown into the waterfall. She insisted that it was not right, not the right time. Somewhere along the journey, it's hard to say when, she lost the ring. It no longer hung from her neck, or weighed in her suitcase. But relief from its loss did not come. Her turmoil lasts.

Did we ever actually lose our way? Not literally, but we lost other things. We were rid of preconceptions about the land, our breath was taken as we gazed at diverse landscapes, sometimes we forgot past transgressions of mother and daughter and got to know each other as adults. We were forced to lay aside fear on especially trying days. I guess you could say we found much more than we lost. Though, the ring remains unfound...