Hike It Out

By Jennifer Madrigal

There is something about a hike that has a way of freeing you, just a little. Hikes can clear your mind, making thoughts crisper and really helping one reflect on life. It could be the air, it could be the time away, or it could be the endorphins released when you exercise. It really doesn’t matter, it just feels good and that “getting away from it all” feeling is sometimes all you need.
Lately, my friend and I have been doing a little hike to get away and just talk, and I have come to look forward to our time together. Jen and I met when I was just 20, recently married, and only had the responsibility of one son. We had just bought our first home in Claremont, and one day I saw Jen walking with her daughter and stopped her. Soon we found that our similarities in name, address and place in life were hilarious. We became fast friends and spent a lot of time walking, bike riding, and attending Mommy and Me playgroups with the kids. After a year or so, we moved to Eastvale, but we remained friends. We’d chat on Facebook, text and see each other from time to time at a parent support group.
As life progressed, our similarities increased. Soon, we both were blessed with autistic sons and relied and leaned on each other for help and support. We helped get each other through the messy IEPS (Individualized Educational Programs), the therapists, doctor ideas, and much more. We also both managed to lose ourselves in the process. As a parent with a special needs child, you tend to spend so much time trying to keep your head above water, that often you forget how much you love to “swim”. But life has a funny way of smashing people back together when they need it.
At a random day at the park for a visit, I saw the warning signs of autism in her then 9-month old son, and opened my mouth to the one word that would set her world on end, “autism”. Years later, it would be me who needed her guidance in the rough world of autism. She gets it. She sees me through it and knows “me”. Not the mother, or the wife, or the Jennifer I show the world, but the true “me”. The “me” that is scared and confused and not confident and just trying to make sense of it all.
Years later, a Facebook conversation led into the fact that we were once again experiencing similar issues and we bonded all over again. These little conversations and daily encouragements have helped to keep us both on track and we find that once again, we are helping each other through yet another difficult period. So we hike, and we talk about the “me” that we each are. We talk about our feelings, our desires, our hang-ups, our wrinkles, our frustrations and we just vent. There is no judgment. We know we are both kind of screwed up, but we are survivors. We know how to depend on ourselves to get what we need to make it another day. Your world, your choices, and your needs are much different when you know you will have a child that “really, really” depends on you, and will continue to do so for far more than 18 years at home. You are a different person from living a life like that, and not everyone understands it. By having a friend who shares both your first and middle name, a lot of your life experiences, and sadly even knows the agony of losing a parent too young, is a God-send. It’s not just a hike, or a goofy Facebook message…it’s a connection, a lifeboat in a sea of rough water, and a friend who can remind me to swim when I feel the water above my head. We “get it”.
So every time we get up on that trail, we let it all go. Spill out all the secrets, talk about all our issues and laugh and giggle and make crazy hand motions to further prove our points. We get to be our wonderful, natural, slightly mentally disturbed selves – and it’s wonderful.