HUMANITY HIKER

Cindy knows that I am sharing her story on my blog and will be writing a book that shares her story as well.  That begs the question of how she feels about that.  Here is Cindy’s perspective about her early onset Alzheimer’s.

As it became increasingly apparent that Cindy had mental health issues she accepted that people in this small town would know.  We never had a phase of tap dancing around the issue with folks; we came right out and told them.  Nothing changed once those mental health issues had the official label of Alzheimer’s.

Living in a loving community we assume that people have our best interests at heart.  If anything, Cindy is glad that most people in town know.  There is just two things that depress her.  One is people being concerned about her affliction in her presence.  She knows there is something wrong; though well-intentioned being absorbed with concern just reinforces that point.  The other thing that bothers her is people ignoring her because of her affliction.

The same general principles apply to sharing her story in cyberspace.  We both feel she is doing something inspirational with her life, rather than allowing life to now pass her by.  She feels that by sharing her story perhaps others can be inspired and even helped as they deal with Alzheimer’s as an affliction or as a caregiver.

I won’t be just sharing Cindy’s story.  After all, hiking the Pacific Crest Trail with our daughter Charissa is an adventure worthy of its own stories.  Stay tuned.

This past week Cindy and I started going for walks wearing almost full backpacks.  We are training for our five-month, 2666 mile hike of the Pacific Crest Trail that will start in June.  On the first day Cindy could not put on her pack; by the third day she still needed assistance but at least could get the process started.

This reminds me of our recent year long hike along the American Discovery Trail.  At the beginning of the hike I had to set the tent up myself; towards the end of the hike she could put the tent up by herself.  In other words Cindy could learn, even though we now know her Alzheimer’s afflictions stretches back to before that hike.

Learning anything in the context of our “civilized lives” is more difficult for Cindy.  I suspect that some of that is due to the complexities of civilized life.  Most of this is so ingrained we don’t give it a second thought:  how to use a computer, driving a car, tidying a room, etc.  On the trail there are very few things to remember: packing and putting on a backpack, setting up a tent, cooking and cleaning are the sum total of daily chores.

The more stimulating a “civilized life,” likely the more complex that life will be.  Not so with long distance hiking.  Someone like Cindy does not have to sit around at a loss for something she can learn and do, rather she can be actively engaged in something exciting and stimulating while yet capable of doing the simple chores such a lifestyle warrants.

The simplicity of this long distance hike is one of several themes I will report on during the months ahead.