Discovering Something New

Something shifted in me a couple years ago when I tried backpacking for the first time. I didn’t expect to love it, honestly. But I fell for it hard.

I love the the simplicity and stillness of nature's awesome beauty. I love the feeling of my feet on the Earth, as I step deeper into the fold of the trees and away from the noise of "every day life."

Nature as Solace for This Medical Parent

It’s isolating, in the very best way. The fresh, outside air and the sunlight are freeing; a truly beautiful feeling.

To be able to backpack at all, I had to work at it. Years of full-time care-giving don’t exactly leave your body trail-ready. So I eased into it with day hikes.

While hikes are also lovely, and grounding, they don’t quite scratch the same itch. I still go whenever I can. It’s become part of how I care for myself now.

Not for Everyone

I want to pause here and say: not everyone’s into backpacking. Totally fair. Even in my own family, it’s a hard no for most.

It’s uncomfortable. It’s dirty. It requires a kind of self-inflicted hardship that doesn’t make sense to everyone. And that’s okay. There’s something out there for all of us, and this just happens to be one of my things.

The Bittersweet Part of The Trail

But something always tugs at me, especially on the very good days where the sun is just right, the trail is soft, and everything feels a little more possible.

Two of my four kids will likely never be able to access this kind of experience.

Even though I’m not someone who believes every trail should be made accessible (I think that’s unrealistic and not healthy for the land) that doesn’t make the truth ache any less.

The Invisible Backpacks We Carry As Medical Parents

Nature has never been fully accessible to everyone. There are places only mountain goats, or other wild cliff-scaling creatures, can go. That’s just how it is.

Still, it lands heavy sometimes.

It’s not resentment or anger. It’s just… grief. And love, and longing. That bittersweet thought “I wish I could give them this.”

I carry that with me too, along with the snacks and the blister tape.

Helping Them Find Their Own Trail

I walk with the hope that I’ll get my daughter and son on as many adventures as possible, in whatever ways work for them. Not trying to copy my path, but helping them find their own version of wild beauty and freedom.

A Question for the Medical Parent Reading This

What do you carry when the road splits between what fills you up and what’s off-limits to someone you love?