PICNIC

Sharing food is the second most intimate act that people can fulfill, at least that’s my understanding. That’s what we did the other day, a hand full of us from a high school class, long, long graduated, careered and for most of us, retired. On a windy day, under sunny skys, we took cover in a shelter house, rubbed elbows, held eye contact and rejoined a universal journey. 

On my computer accounts I am required to update security questions. Last year, one of the questions was, “Who is your oldest, childhood friend?” I typed in, “Carl.” From the 3rd or 4th grade, far flung and many years, I have always considered Carl my friend. He was there with his wife. While the girls chatted, we stood arms folded like wizened sages and discussed a wide range of issues and current events. Our beliefs and ideals play out in opposite directions but we were not there to champion a cause or find fault. We met at the core of our experience, family and friends. We share the same concerns about being prepared for old age. My dad told me when he was 87, “Long life is better than dying young but you lose your friends and then need help zipping up your pants.” That used to be out on the horizon but now it’s just a stone’s throw. 

In Alaska, salmon start out as smolt, juvenile fish no bigger than your thumb. They swim down stream and out to sea where they earn a living. Many are lost to predators and fishermen. After 4 or 5 years, survivors find their way back to the streams they were hatched in and return to complete the life cycle. For days, weeks, hundreds of thousands of fish congregate in Cook Inlet, just outside the mouth of the Kenai River. They are waiting for some signal that it’s time to go home. We’re not much different than the fish. Some get the call sooner, others go home later. So we rub elbows, share food and wonder about the ones who didn’t show up. Our voices and mannerisms hadn't changed enough to notice and that long-seasoned familiarity was comforting. Shared memory and good will are a magical pairing. We hug and shake hands, drive off in different directions with all good intentions of meeting up again, someday soon.