Date: 2003-09-19
From: Gorham, N.H.

To: Nashua, N.H.
Miles today: 0.0

start Gorham,N.H.destination Nashua NHI woke up starving this morning, so we made a bee line for the restaurent and a breakfast buffet. When I get back to the room, I call my oldest daughter to sing Happy Birthday to my grandson who turned 5. He is not very impressed with my singing. I cannot compete with Saturday morning cartoons. He hands the phone back to his Mom. She tells me that she has just found out that her Grandpa (my step dad) died on April 3 of this year. Just days short of his 91 st. birthday. I am going to try and explain this here. It has nothing to do with my hike, but rather has every thing to do with my life and my loved ones. Some one told me a long time ago that divorce was a gift from Satan that kept right on giving. There is countless life situations that turn into nightmares because of a divorce, step children, step parents, jealousy, resentment, blended families, mistrust, the list goes on and on. I will try to condense this down so as not to chase rabbits off on a tangent. My Mom was a live in housekeeper for a man who would later become my step dad. She helped take care of his girls when they were small and came to visit him. I was ten, they were 7 and 5. We spent countless weekends swimming and picnicing on the river or at the beach. We seemed, to an outsider to be a happy family. The years passed and the girls grew up and went on with ther lives, moving away and not staying in touch with their father very often. It seems funny to me that those of us who have not had something, then gained it, do not take for granted those new found things. My Mom went on to other livein housekeeping jobs. We always stayed in touch and I continued long after I was on my own to call him Daddy. He was the father figure in my life and the only male who would love me and treat me decent and never abuse me. He never differentiated between us girls, but treated me just like a daughter. Of course I saw more of him because he later married my mom. He then became the only grandpa my children would ever know. And for thirty years he was the best grandpa a child could ask for. Always ready to take the kids fishing, or teach them how to swim. He taught them how to pitch and play basketball. He taught them how to drive on that long dirt road to his house. He hardly ever missed a t ball game, or Christmas play. They never heard an angry word from him. His most beloved Bible verse was "Come now and let us reason together". He used it at every opportunity he could. After many years his daughters moved closer to him and decided to have a better relationship with him. By that time my mom had died and he lived alone out in the woods. I was glad that his daughters were finally able to spend time with him. Then he got very ill and they chose to take care of him. They also chose to completely keep us from having any contact with him. I will never be sure of the why, but just that they did. But I always beleived that at his death they would surely let us know. I was terribly wrong. I had made several attempts to contact him before I started hiking, but my calls were never returned. Finally my daughter did a search and for mere dollars, and the marvels of the internet we found him. Deceased, Gone, with no chance for us to have closure. No chance to have a part in his funeral, to begin the mourning process and to say goodby. I spent the day today in a daze. I cannot allow myself to feel the hurt or the pain. I am not home with my children to comfort them, to hold them, to talk about all the good times. I want my husband to hold me and comfort me, to share some of the pain. To validate my feelings . But he is far away and I am in the last stages of my hike. We cannot do all those many little things that are done when someone dies and you have to say goodbye. I am hurt beyond words. Once again my expectations have shattered my faith in mankind. I feel I have been robbed. Because of resentment or mistrust or anger or whatever. This is not fair, it is not even right, but there is nothing I can do. I am appaled that grown people could not put their feelings or lack of aside long enough to give us a chance to honor a man that we all loved and cared for. There is not any assets to fight over, or things worth anything to divide. There are only common memories, fun times to remember and share. I comfort my daughter best I can and say goodby. I long for someone to hold me and comfort me. How I miss my own mother, I long to feel her holding me. Until you have lost a parent you cannot feel the pain. You might can empathise or sympathise but you can't begin to feel the pain. I just try and block this all from my mind, until the day comes when I can deal with it. With the anger and hurt, the loss and the empty place that is always left when someone you love dies. Divorce...it tears families apart reaching far down through the years. This is the third family member I have lost this month. A beloved aunt from my first marriage, the news reaching me too late to attend the funeral. Like an after thought, oh,we really need to call... An uncle from my father's side. A man I never knew because my parents split up when I was small and my mom never stayed in touch with that side of th! e family. I had just met him a few short years ago when I attended a family reunion of my father's side. I met and grew to love a large group of wonderful relatives, people who I never knew about. Family, my extended family. Already several of them, older, have died. Again, I have missed out on family.I am not very good company, but Mudbutt just tries to give me space. We had left in such a hurry yesterday that I really wanted to try and find Bog Bridge Tester and Indiana Ben to get contact information on them for after the hike. We drove through town several times, but had no luck finding them. We are driving down to meet with some of Mudbutt's friends. They are giving a party in our honor. That means food and fun. I am not in the mood for either,but I do not want to spoil these plans. I try to be socialble,but I feel stiff and cold. We get to Steve and Karen's house in Nashua, N.H. They are putting us up for the night. I meet their two children Zachary and Julia. Zachary is the same age and has the same name as one of my grandchildren who was given up for adoption. Again I am reminded of a loss caused by divorce. Again I take a deep breath and bury the pain that threatens to engulf me. I zone out. We put our clothes into wash and head over to another couple's house where we are having dinner. Alan and his wife Beth have fixed us a dinner fit for a queen, or a thru hiker! Alan grills steaks and chicken breasts while Beth cooks vegetables fresh from their garden. Corn on the cob, carrots and new potatoes. Yumm Yumm. I have been craving sweet corn for weeks. Since the first time I hiked along side of a corn field and saw ears, ready to be picked. I take my time eating two pieces of corn. The sweetness and tenderness of it, dripping with real butter and sprinkled with salt and pepper sending my tastebuds and my mind into an orbit of enjoyment. I am not bashful and go back for seconds. There is a fabulous apple crisp for dessert. The apples not too sweet with the crunchy topping cutting the tartness of the apples. We enjoy the comraderie around the table, sharing hiking stories, the folk singer lovers singing snipets of songs bringing back memories of concerts attended in years past. I feel like I am on the outside, not able to just enjoy the fun. Trying desperately to keep myself together. All too soon it is late and we head back to Steve's house. I call my youngest son and sing Happy Birthday to him on his answering machine. I am disappointed that I did not get to talk to him. I put on clean clothes and lay down beside Mudbutt. I lay there with my eyes open, trying to comprehend the death of my daddy. How people could act so selfish, be so resentful. I keep repeating to myself the sentence that I learned years ago in counseling. Most people make the very best decision they can at the time. I desperately try to beleive that. It is easier for me to beleive that than it is to beleive that people can be so hateful. Still, it hurts..I cry out to God and ask him for strength. I have a need to finish this hike, to stay focused. I have a greater need to forgive. I am not any where close to that place yet..Forgiveness. I will have to get over the anger first. Anger has always been a problem for me. I am still learning how to get angry and what to do with it. It is okay to be angry. I am still learning that. Yet I know that behind anger is either hurt or fear. I feel both. Why fear? I am not sure. Maybe I am afraid that I have lost something that only existed in my mind. That we were not really a family after all. That it was more to me than it really was. But..there is no doubt in my mind that my children and I were loved by this man. No one can rob us of those precious memories. I know that in the days ahead I will feel the comforting hand of God, guiding me to a place of true forgiveness. But for now, I know he holds me in his arms and comforts me. I know he knows how I feel because he was betrayed, and treated hateful when he was here on earth. He is still treated that way even today. Bumpkin