Eating Elephants

As the darkness of the night settles over the land, a time for rest begins. Our eyes close as we work to regenerate our strength for the next day. This isn’t solely for hikers. A time for rest and recovery is necessary for almost every living organism on this planet. The moon makes its way into the middle of the sky, and as we lay our heads down our eyelids begin to wearily seal themselves shut. The Earth revolves on its axis, rotating through the night around the blazing sphere we call the sun, those radiant beams begin to peer over the land. The birds sing their sweet melody, the crickets begin to chirp, the billions of hearts stir into a rapid beat and the flower petals unclasp from the nucleus of their stem. What a beautiful thing it is, waking up to the emitting sound of the world beginning a new day, allowing the warmth of the sun to revitalize it all.

I thought it appropriate to start this blog off by speaking on behalf of the energy source we rely upon so heavily. For it feels as though there is a pretty clear correlation between our mothers and the sun. I would also like to take this moment to say happy Mother’s Day to all those that have given birth and all those whose time to bare children is coming. To my grandma Rohlman, aunt Laura, aunt Julie, aunt Jen and all the other female figures with significant impact in my life, thank you for the nurturing love you’ve provided to me. I could name so many more significant women in my life but that would be a whole blog unto itself. I apologize for any I may have missed!

Sunday, May 7th was a special day for me and my family, particularly on my mothers side. It was the date that Mary Christian, my grandmother on my mom’s side, was born; May 7th, 1940. She would have been 83 years young had she not passed away on January 24th of 2022. As the day had begun, the sun was my alarm clock for that morning, seeping through the cracks of my tent. I had camped out on an amazing ridge with a view that won’t soon be forgotten, neither will the sign right next to the spot that said “no camping and no fires under any circumstances!” (Whoops) It was a brilliant start to the morning as I made my way up to Mcafee knob, one of the most notoriously photographed locations on the A.T. I couldn’t help but desire a presence from her that day, a sign of some sorts that I might have the knowledge of understanding. At the top of this vastly open view, I got my picture taken, sat down and had some oatmeal as well as a miniature cup of hot chocolate. No signs were to be noted high up on that cliff.

The progression of the day became a bit more eerie, as storm clouds began to brew overhead and thunder sounded off in the distance. I thought, “well she passed during a snow storm, maybe she’ll grace me with a deluge of rain from the clouds above!” There was a phrase that replayed over and over in my head that day. One that my grandmother used quite often; “I’m not stubborn, I’m just determined!” As the thunder slowly grew closer to me, that phrase seemed to make me chuckle as I was hiking. I like to think that I do my part in taking care of the trail to the best of my ability, for she has provided me with a new lense upon the world, one that I cannot quite describe in words. As I was walking and mentally preparing to get utterly soaked, I came across a small plastic white cap on the ground that I scooped up and threw into the pocket of my belt buckle. Surely it was a small price to pay with the size of it fitting easily in my pack. About 15 minutes later I came across a section hiker who seemed to be rapidly moving south. We made short conversation and I really thought nothing of it, except that maybe he was just tying to get to a shelter, taking cover from the rain that was swiftly approaching. Then I came upon another hiker whom I had come to find out was that guys partner. She described to me that they had lost something and he went back to look for the object they had lost. I mentioned the rain and that hopefully they wouldn’t have any trouble in their search and told her it was nice to meet her as I was on my way. After about 50 paces it occurred to me to ask her what exactly it was that they lost. In her description was a small white plastic cap for the container to a bottle of some sorts. I turned back around, made my 50 paces back into her direction and unzipped the pocket of my pack. “It wouldn’t happen to be this white cap would it?” With a smile that lit up the day she laughed and gazed at me as if I were some wizard. With the moment feeling as if it were magic, I gave her the cap and we embraced each other with a high five. I turned to walk away, briskly moving, waiting a few moments before I began to silently weep.

I tell you this story because my grandmother had this uncanny ability to be some saint like figure to all that had the pleasure of knowing her. To take a simple interaction and transform it into a life changing conversation. She would listen to people’s stories of pain and agony and find a way to mend their broken hearts and weeping souls, always providing uplifting encouragement. After all, her life’s profession was a nurse to all.

I ran into the couple a few days after the incident and finally got their names. The man’s name was Renuk and the women’s Krishna. As we caught up a bit, Krishna told me that moment felt like magic and I nodded my head in agreement with her statement. We all spoke of our hike after that and how we embraced the rain as if it were a shower washing away the sweat we had accrued from the humidity earlier on. There were two lightning strikes that day that sent tremors through every fiber of my body. As frightening as they were I couldn’t help but feel like I was hiking on cloud nine and as the storm dissipated, the sun came out one final time before I lay my head down to rest that night.

I can’t say I’m a perfect human, surely I’ve made mistakes in my life that have hurt people, leaving a distasteful image of me in their minds. I can say however, that our lost loved ones always find a way to reveal themselves in miraculous ways. I miss that woman and all the ways that she guided me through this life. I miss the conversations we would have about girlfriends and heartbreak and the troubling mysteries of how to navigate through this world. Although she is gone, her presence still remains, embedded deep in our minds and hearts. Happy Mother’s Day mom, and to my sister who is expecting a little one of her own by September, adding to her family of four!

“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief…and unspeakable love.”– Washington Irving