The vibrant green and purple lights danced across the night sky, shimmering and undulating in an ethereal glow. Mia gazed up in wonder from her cabin’s porch, a steaming mug of tea cupped in her hands. She had traveled thousands of miles to the remote Alaskan wilderness, desperate to glimpse the aurora borealis at least once in her life. Now here she was, 68 years old, basking in the surreal splendor of the northern lights on her very first night. Mia felt tears prick the corners of her eyes—tears of joy, of gratitude for being alive to witness this magical sight.

The decision to make this trip hadn’t come easy for Mia. After her husband Glen passed away last year, she fell into a dark spiral of grief and depression. The love of her life, her partner of 45 years, was gone. Mia saw no point in going on adventures anymore, in doing anything at all. She had wanted to curl up and let the sorrow consume her.

It was her daughter Lila who finally shook Mia out of her stupor. “Mom, this isn’t what Dad would have wanted for you,” Lila had said, taking Mia’s hands in hers. “He’d want you to keep living life to the fullest, to have new experiences. Remember how he always talked about wanting to see the northern lights? Why don’t you go, in his memory? I think it would make him smile.”

At first, Mia resisted the idea. How could she embark on the trip of a lifetime without Glen by her side? But the more she thought about it, the more she realized Lila was right. Glen wouldn’t want her to wallow indefinitely. He had embraced life with boundless enthusiasm, right up until the end. He would want her to carry on with that same spirit. And so, Mia booked a weeklong stay at this remote lodge, vowing to chase the aurora in Glen’s honor.

As Mia watched the neon lights swirl hypnotically overhead, she felt a sudden flare of anger at the unfairness of it all. It should be Glen standing here too, his arm around her, his laughter echoing through the trees. What she wouldn’t give for just one more day with him, one more kiss, one more “I love you.”

A gust of frigid wind whipped across the porch and Mia shivered, pulling her fleece tighter. As she did, her hand brushed the simple gold band on her left ring finger. Glen’s ring. After the funeral, Mia had taken to wearing it on her own finger, finding a small solace in keeping it close. But now, the metal felt like it was searing her skin, branding her with sorrow. She couldn’t do this anymore, couldn’t keep living each day mired in grief. She had to find a way to move forward.

Sighing, Mia gingerly slipped the ring off her finger. The pale band of skin underneath seemed to glow in the diffuse light. Mia stared at the ring in her palm, remembering the day Glen first slid it on 45 years ago, how his eyes had sparkled as bright as any aurora. Their whole future had stretched out before them then, full of promise.

Mia blinked back tears, then raised the ring to her lips. “Thank you,” she whispered. “Thank you for the lifetime of love. I’ll never stop missing you, but it’s time for me to start truly living again. I know that’s what you’d want. I love you, always.”

Straightening up, Mia pulled her arm back and threw the ring with all her strength. It sailed out into the darkness, glinting once in the glow of the aurora before vanishing into the shadows of the trees.

The northern lights continued their silent dance and gradually, Mia found herself smiling through her tears. She felt as if a weight had been lifted, her soul somehow lightened. Glen would always be with her, but she knew she could do this, could find her way forward alone. She had so much still to be grateful for—her health, her daughter, the wonders of the world waiting to be explored. This trip was just the beginning.

Taking a deep breath of the crisp night air, Mia nodded once in resolve. Tomorrow, she would call the lodge manager and extend her stay another week. She couldn’t wait to see what other adventures the aurora had in store.

Feature Photo by Visit Greenland