An Unexpected Visitor

Another lifetime...
from the importance of appearance to what really matters

Sometimes we don’t realize how much our attitudes about life change until a comparable event happens such as the incident that took place last week. Even as it occurred, I was thinking, “No one from my past would recognize this woman with a ratty terrycloth bathrobe wrapped around her, standing by the woodstove talking to a neighbor who has just arrived unannounced.” Me, with my morning face unadorned, hair that strayed from an untidy braid, and a messy cabin with padded cloths tacked up at the windows to keep out the cold. This would never have happened in that other lifetime when appearances were all important. I doubt I would even have gone to the door looking like I did on that morning last week. But after the initial Oh My! and “Is it too early?” …the slight embarrassment we all felt disappeared. No need to worry about appearances. Out here it is life at the basic level… food, water, warmth, shelter. Danny, in his torn flannel shirt was here to see how we were doing and if we needed more firewood.

Danny’s mom, who lives in the farmhouse only two kilometers down the road, had read our blog on the Internet about Bob’s getting up every two to three hours during the night to keep the fire going. She used to have a Prairie Maid stove like ours and had some tips that she thought might help (they did). With neighborly concern, Danny was sent down to see us – the sawmill where he usually works wasn’t operating because it was too cold for the machinery. After reassuring him that we were doing fine, Danny settled in to talk about books that he was reading, “Grass Beyond the Mountains” and “Nothing Too Good for a Cowboy” by Richmond P. Hobson, and a TV program he had just watched about building the Golden Gate Bridge. While Bob and Danny talked, I slipped away to make myself more presentable.

Our friend Richard who lives in Kitwanga has no phone but e-mails us often to see how we are doing, or do we need the driveway plowed? When frigid weather is predicted he invites us to stay over with him and his wife. And he always wants to know when Bob is driving in to town. “Let me know when you are coming.” The steep switchbacks on the Backroad can be treacherous at this time of the year. Even with four-wheel drive and snow tires anything can happen between the cabin and Kitwanga. So Richard wants us to e-mail him when Bob gets back to the cabin too. It reminds me of my parents asking me to give them a call when I got safely to my destination; I did the same thing with my own children. But for two well-seasoned adults who have trekked in war-torn Guatemala and lived and sailed for three years on a sailboat in northern waters, it can be a little irritating, as if there is some doubt about our ability to take care of ourselves. Then we stop and realize what a blessing it is to have people who actually care about what happens to us. In this world of anonymity and self-interest, that is a rare commodity, and we are thankful to have found it. Yes, some things are more important that being caught in your ratty old bathrobe.
... P. L. Morningstar
.