I've had nearly a lifetime,
To dream about the other side of life,
And what it is that I would want,
When it came my time to decide.

I thought about warm beaches,
In Jamaica, or someplace close.
I thought about the Riviera,
On the French or Italian coast.

I thought about San Francisco,
And sailing around the bay.
I even thought about Taos, in New Mexico,
Where all the old hippies have gone to play.

I considered for a while Seattle,
In the shadow of Mt. Rainier,
But the reality there, and it just isn't fair,
Is that they get way too much rain each year.

LA holds no allure,
For me, or others I've known,
If I moved to Southern California,
It would have to be to San Juan Capistrano.

But now the time is finally here,
And the Big Sky, it beckons me,
Thoughts of Kalispell make me short of breath,
And I know that's where I need to be.

I'll take 90 across Wyoming,
And head north to the Little Bighorn.
I'll jog west when I get to Billings,
Where I'll drive straight into a late Winter storm.

I'll head west all the way to Anaconda,
And there, you know I'll break north,
To Missoula, and Polson, and Flathead Lake,
Chasing daylight for all that it's worth.

All that I want is peace of mind,
In the mountains where I can breathe.
I spent my whole life working so hard,
Trying to meet everyone else's needs.

But my time has come, and I'm on the run,
For the purity of the mountain air.
I'll fulfill my dreams, in a mountain stream,
In a land made by God to be fair.

So, whether it's Whitefish, or Libby, or Kalispell,
Even now, I still can't tell,
But, on my behalf in my latter years,
I ask for all of you, to shed not a tear.

I have given most of all which is good,
That I've carried so long as I patiently stood,
And I've gazed toward the mountains,
And have been caught in their spell,
Differentiating for me,
Between Heaven and Hell,
And all that is left for me to tell,
Is of my impending trip,
To Kalispell.

For Jacklyn Shaffer, who has done much for those she has touched.