4 months on the path of the Apalaches

Julio was a return home.

The month began with a strong sense of reconnection. I spent time with people who had not seen in a long time, and that sense of familiarity helped me take me through the heat and the end of the average Atlantic. Arriving in New York was a turning point, marked the return of real elevation, and hiking began to feel like New England again. I could also go home on July 4. Seeing my cat, my partner and my dad, he was connecting to ground. I got to rest for a couple of days and remember that while the finish line is close, the home is even closer.

When I started this trip, my initial goal was to reach mid -June for a wedding. Since then, my approach has changed to get to Vermont. I was able to advance through northern Connecticut and Massachusetts, which helped me move quickly through those sections. When I returned to the path, I met many new people, which is a very fun part of the path. One of my favorite nights on the paths was a beautiful sunset in Bromley Mountain. That night, more than 15 of us gathered, easily the largest group that had been from Georgia. We share food, stories and laughs. He felt like the path of the Apalaches in his purest form. There is something strange and special in being surrounded by strangers who feel like friends, sharing simple joys that are difficult to get in everyday life.

And yet, even in that joy, the pain found me.

Pain has a way to sneak out at times you expect. Many assume that hits during sadness or loss reminders, but I have learned that for me, it often hits harder during joy, the moments I would like to be able to share with my mother. That night, when some people gathered around the fire and others went to bed, I returned only to see the light that fades. I do not speak often with my mother or the other loved ones I have lost, but that night, I did. I sat down, cried and fought with the reminder that I can never share these memories with her.

The pain often comes for me. I am learning to recognize it, to welcome you instead of resisting it. Writing poetry has been one of the most powerful tools to process that pain. Here is one that I wrote that night:

I see you in the light that fades.

He remembered and my loss.

Wishing to have more moments with you.

Wishing to share these memories with you.

The light continues to fade.

My pain continues to grow.

Unable to walk forward.

Need to advance.

Lowering his head and living with pain.

The light is gone now.

However, I still look for you in the dark.

Unable to see you but capable of feeling.

That’s why I stay.

I wrote that poem in a moment of raw pain, and I share it here to remind others and myself that pain decreases and flows. My mother appears at unexpected moments, and I keep moving forward, carrying sadness and strength.

The end of July really felt like a return home. Crossing New Hampshire, a state that I have expected from the beginning was exciting and bittersweet. It was an important milestone, but also a reminder that time on the road is running out. The temptation to go home is stronger than ever, and I discover that I now have to strive more than at any other time. My body and my mind are tired. Yes, I have cried of exhaustion and the desire to do. But I will end. Through ice cream it is not always an escape; Sometimes it is a battle with yourself.

Now that I am in the presidential ones, I remember my deep love for New Hampshire and the place where I grew up. Maine is just around the corner, and I will soon be able to share the story of the end.

For now, I focus on the present in the beauty of the path, the force within me and the resistance of the people I know. The next time I will update you, I will be finished. That moment feels very far, but in truth, there are only a few weeks.

-The godfather

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