The Hikers Reunion

The day after a big event causes reflection; in this case the big event was a hikers reunion held at our house. About thirty long distance hikers, plus a few spouses, celebrated Cindy’s Honorary Triple Crown with us. Most hikers came on Saturday afternoon, when the official presentation was made. A few came back on Sunday and a handful spent both Saturday and Sunday nights here. Mike and Kirk H., two hikers who were with us on our PCT journey, lingered until Tuesday morning. After those two left the clean-up began, along with the opportunity for reflection.

Over the years people have shared with me, not just hikers by the way, their observation that our house is well-suited for gatherings. On the one hand our home is not so pristine as to make people wary about getting something dirty (certainly, an important factor for long distance hikers); nor is our house a dive that calls to mind the wrong side of the tracks. Perhaps the best descriptor for our home is “homey,” fostering a family-like atmosphere. I overheard from hikers a few times over the weekend that this reunion was like family to them. As I sorted the returnables from the recyclables, along with other day after projects, that family feel to the week-end stuck in my mind.

People suggest I join an Alzheimer’s support group. I’m registered to two on-line but, since I have more experience than virtually anyone else on live-in care giving from three different patients, I end up giving advice more than receiving on such forums. That’s fine, because my real support group gathered together this past week-end.

In our civilized society we belong to lots of things: political, economic, religious and interest groups. None of those groupings matter on a long-distance hike, only belonging to each other. This was evident from the words, hugs and looks of support from my hiking buddies this weekend. They are more than enough to keep me going. Meanwhile, their smiles, hugs and warmth for Cindy must have permanently attached to her heart, regardless of when her mind might let go of those moments. As an extra measure, we put up a rainbow on our kitchen wall with the signatures of our hiking friends underneath.

Yet perhaps the signature comment of the weekend came on Saturday morning, before the hikers gathered. Cindy’s old nursing friends Karen and Carol took her out for breakfast and a haircut that morning. Carol sat in the kitchen with us for awhile after their return and shared her feelings on Cindy. She described their former workplace as often depressing, infused with backbiting between the nurses. Cindy refused to be a part of that, instead becoming a ray of sunshine in the workplace. Once Cindy came into the office, says Carol, it became a good day.

Yes, that’s who I’m dealing with, a person whose mere presence makes it a good day. When you combine that with a support group of people who truly know how to belong to each other, without all the civilized distractions that get in the way of relationships, I figure I’m a pretty lucky guy.