Last winter, deep snow and thick ice kept the fair-weather walkers off of my favorite hiking trail in Indianapolis. I could always count on running into one other diehard on the path though; a woman - wearing ski gaiters, pac boots, ice cleats, and a down overcoat - moved in slow motion next to her arthritic Weimaraner.
One morning, as my pack of three dogs mingled with her hound, the woman and I struck up a conversation.
Within minutes, we discovered a connection of both place and purpose.
“It was always our dream to move to Montana after we retired,” the woman explained, as she rubbed her old dog’s ears. “Unfortunately, my husband and I weren’t in Kalispell very long before he was diagnosed with Alzheimer's. We stayed as long as we could, and then we decided to return to Indy to be close to family...”
I met the fellow Montana-lover just weeks before Christmas.
“We walk a lot,” the woman told me, motioning towards her four-legged friend. “It helps me feel better. This is our first Holiday season without him.”
On an urban hiking trail in Indy, the woman and I often reminisce about Montana. But then, always, we are brought back to the beauty of the present as a deer trots across our path or a heron flies so low overhead we can hear its giant wings working the wind.
We both love Montana, but we’re not there right now. The woman with the Weimaraner has made it her life to support Alzheimer’s patients, caregivers, and research.
I am in Indy, helping both of my parents as they go through cancer treatments.
When you have your health and your family, it’s all good no matter where you are.
About a month ago, there was a knock on my parents’ door in Indy. I looked out the window and saw a man in a quick-dry fly-fishing shirt, baggy shorts, and river sandals.
I know a Montana-lover when I see one.
This “young man,” just a few years older than me, spotted my Toyota Rav with Montana license plates sitting in my parents’ driveway.
“The Alaskan husky in your back yard and the dog sled I see on your car rack from time to time kind of gave you away...” he said. “I live in Whitefish, but I grew up here in Indy. I’m here a lot nowadays because my dad isn’t well.”
We sat on my parents front porch and talked about Montana for an hour, laughing as we discovered similarities. We both went to Chatard High School, he also has a gorgeous husky as a sidekick, and we are temporary neighbors here in Indy - he’s staying just two doors down.
It’s funny how Montana can be thousands of miles away, yet still bring people together.
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