Climbing Mountains with Kim

I cannot do everything, but I can do something. I must not fail to do the something that I can do.

Helen Keller

My very favorite story about Kim was when we were in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia on a vacation we took after attending my cousin Laura’s Wedding.  Kim had just turned six years old.  She had the prettiest little face- like a doll’s; huge dark almond-shaped eyes, a tiny pointy nose and heart-shaped full lips, framed by bangs and lovely dark brown straight hair down to her waist that would curl at the very ends. 

After Laura’s wedding, we stayed at a lovely bed and breakfast in Staunton, Virginia.  My parents came with us, so it was a true family vacation in our mini-van, with grandma and grandpa “in tow”.  We decided to explore the beautiful Shenandoah Valley and do all the things that Daddy and Lindsay loved to do- including canoeing and mountain hiking.  Thanks to our video recorder, I have much of this converted onto a DVD, so I can revisit the past and see my kids when they were kids, my mom when she was so much younger and my dad the way I want to remember him.  Of course I have photographs, too- of Kimberly crying and holding onto the sides of the canoe she was in with her dad; I remember her wailing, “I hate you Daddy. I want to go home.”  And then there’s my favorite photo of my two beautiful girls, clinging to each other, sitting atop the highest point of the mountain on a cluster of rocks, with the endless pale blue sky behind them.  This is my very favorite photo…because it tells the story of Kim and climbing mountains. 

One of Mark’s favorite outdoor activities is hiking and he researched this area well and planned a hiking trip up the Blue Ridge Mountains.  My parents stayed back in the town, walking through the shops and Mark, the girls and I started hiking up the trail to the top of the mountain.  As we walked farther along, the trail became steeper, with jagged, uneven rocks.  I was never a fan of hiking and certainly less of a fan of mountain hiking.  So I decided to let Mark and Lindsay continue and that Kimberly was much too young to handle such a vertiginous trail.  I was exhausted anyway.  So, Kim and I sat down on a slab of stone, while Mark and Lindsay trekked deeper to reach the summit.  

At six years old, Kim was extremely inquisitive and in that “why” stage of childhood.  My Aunt Dorothy even used to call her “the how come girl.”  So while we were sitting on the rock, as other hikers passed us, Kim asked how come we were not moving on.  “You’re so little and it’s getting too dangerous for your little legs to carry you up this trail,” I replied, attempting to justify my prudence.  After about ten minutes, there came a group of hikers that raised some more questions, not only for Kim, but also for my cautious decision and me.  

A girl was traveling in this group with a man beside her.  She seemed to have her eyes shut and he was guiding her, step by step, describing the trail as she walked, carefully, but determinedly.  “How come he’s telling her where the steps are Mommy? Kim asked me.  “Because she’s blind and she needs someone to explain the path to her while she’s walking,” I explained, which prompted another why question, naturally, from her- “Why is she walking up a mountain, if she’s blind.”  It was one of those “aha” moments in my life where the answer to a question is so obvious and simultaneously epiphanic.  I watched the girl and her guide pass us and after a few moments, I responded with a deep sigh, “Because, because…she’s showing us that if she can walk up the mountain, and she’s blind, we can certainly walk up the mountain, too.  So, come on, let’s go.”

Thus, we gave in to my fears and trepidations and conquered the narrow, precipitous path, eventually catching up to the girl and her guide.  The guide chuckled to me as we passed, “So you decided to do it after all.”  It was as if he knew exactly what was going through my head.  Soon after, we caught up to a very pleased daddy and sister.  I really don’t remember the walk up the path after passing the guide; I just remember reaching the top and my girls sitting on the highest rock and posing for that iconic picture.

What’s so ironic about this account is that Kim remembers nothing about it.  Nothing.  And to me, this story defines who she is and represents how I steered her or even quite possibly deterred her on all the paths that followed.  Isn’t that the case, most often, though- our experiences with our children, sometimes the ones most precious- the ones that give us that crystal clear indication of who they are, the ones that are indelible to us are occurrences that have not even made an imprint on their memory.  It’s as if who they are to themselves is so different from who they are to us.

Before I even brought Kimberly into this world, I had some foresight into the kind of person she was going to turn into.  I was in labor with her on three separate occasions.  The first time, she would have been four weeks early.  I recall the midwife, Karen, began knitting something while my contractions slowed and then disappeared.  It was hours into a long night.  I said to Karen, I have a vision of my baby being born and whatever you’re knitting being a large blanket.  

I did not give birth that night, or the next time I went to the hospital with false labor pains.  The actual day that she was born, on the morn of a full moon the previous night, I hesitated going to the hospital because I didn’t want to be sent home a third time.  Karen, the midwife, finally delivered her and she mentioned that what she had begun knitting three weeks before was coincidentally now a sweater.  

What did this whole birthing escapade forewarn me of?  Kimberly’s indecisiveness, of course, not to mention how we’re always waiting for her when we’re going somewhere and how even when we get into the car, she has to run back to get something she forgot.  I keep picturing her last week, even, getting a new pair of glasses after trying on 50 different pairs. 

So, what is the significance of our mountain hike and the blind girl who inspired me to take Kim and climb that steep trail to the top?  Many times in Kim’s life, there has been something that paralyzes her from doing something or causes her to change her course of action.  She is afraid to drive.  Even after driving for a few months, after delaying getting a license, she panics when she gets behind the wheel.  She went all through college deliberating and changing her mind many times about what to major in; then finally graduated with a degree and license to teach English as a Second Language.  Nevertheless, after one year of trying it, she decided she hated it, mostly because she lacked the confidence to believe she was truly helping her students and not screwing them up. 

Now she works at Planet Fitness and is in grad school majoring in an entirely different field.  It has been an uphill battle (excuse the pun).   Oftentimes, I think it’s her pervasive, perpetual perfectionism.  If she cannot do something flawlessly, she deems it unsuccessful and abandons it.  Did I do that to her, I wonder, by being afraid, at times, to let go and encourage her to take risks?  That was why I didn’t want to go up that steep trail; until I realized what a wuss I was being when we encountered the blind girl. 

For Kim’s 20^th birthday, I took her to a psychic-astrologer in the village.  She did an astrological reading and read her tarot cards.  She told Kim that she would become some kind of counselor, which surprised us, because at the time, she was majoring in Speech Pathology.  She also told her that it would take from four to nine years for her to emerge into this amazing person she is meant to be.  Before that time, she would struggle a great deal. So far, the psychic has been correct in her predictions and surprisingly accurate when considering this new profession Kim is studying for.  And then one wonders, do people take certain paths after these so-called psychics plant seeds? 

In reality, my Kim is not much different from most young adults trying to find their niche.  After all, I, myself, have had quite a few careers in my history.  And even though she has no recollection of our climbing up the steep mountain event, except what I’ve told her, I hope she learns that the decisions and journey are just as valuable as reaching the pinnacle.