We're Not So Different, You And I

Little Man & Me, Maine 2010

We're on our annual summer vacation, PB, Big Man, Little Man and I. We've been coming to this same little island in Maine since before the boys were born so it's really become a part of our family's history.

Hiking is one of the many things we love to do here and our first climb is always Beech Mountain. When the boys were little it was a great way to bribe them into get them excited about hiking because not only can you reach the top in about 15 minutes, the payoff is big once you get there and I'm not just talking about the spectacular view. Upon Beech's granite head sits a 50-foot fire tower. Climb the rickety ladder to the lookout shed and you're no longer two little blond brothers with chubby cheeks. You're Optimus Prime and Megatron surveying your dominions before you rip each other apart in battle.

Little Man & Big Man Summer 2008, Post-Transformer Period

The trek up Beech is pretty easy except for the very beginning which is a steep incline for about ten minutes during which your heart pounds and you get all sweaty and think to yourself, jeez, I thought I was in shape. I put in my time on the Eliptical. Maybe I need to rachet it up a notch.

The upslope never fazes Big Man and Little Man. They inevitably take off up the rock face quick as jack rabbits. This particular first hike is bittersweet because we're missing our Yellow Lab, Daisy, who died this past January. More than all of us put together, Daisy loved hiking in Maine. The second we'd let her off her leash she'd sweep up the mountain like a flash of white lightening. Then she'd double-back to wait for us to catch up, only to take off again.

Daisy on Beech Mountain 2009

So yesterday as we're hiking it's dawning on me that, even though time passes and things change, this one thing has remained constant. We continue to begin our time in Maine with this traditional first hike, a welcome toast to the next two glorious weeks we'll spend on our idyllic coastal island. And even though it's tinged with sadness because I'm feeling the loss of Daisy, I'm filled with happiness that we've created this family tradition.

We finally get to the top and head over to "our spot" to rest for a bit and we spy a family with two Labs --a Yellow and a Black.  Of course the Yellow reminds us of our beloved Daisy so we strike up a conversation with them and, lo and behold, guess what this Yellow Lab's name is? Why Daisy, of course. As the conversation continues we learn that this family has been coming to Maine since before they had kids. And this hike is always their first hike.

After spending some time talking with this nice family about all the similar things we like to do in Maine, PB, Big Man, Little Man and I head down the mountain and I have to laugh. We, and I use this term collectively, think we're so unique. That our family rituals are so special, somehow setting us apart from everybody else. Even making us a little superior. As if no one else could possibly love this mountain, this view, a dog as much as we ever could. We're really not so different, you and I.

My Girl & Me on Beech  2009