Strawberries

Rearranging the hand I was dealt, I laid the first card on the picnic table and swatted at the persistent mosquitos circling us. It had been a week since our bicycle journey began, and we just crossed over the border into Minnesota. We waited to set up our tent at dusk to avoid paying our dues. That was our routine - stealth, rest, and departure. The city park had an artificial pond surrounded by retired fisherman, catching and releasing stocked fish to pass over the weekend.

A couple came over to us with an outstretched hand. Initially, we thought they were rangers asking for our permit. There is a storm coming - you two better head over to that shelter. The radar on their phone showed a red amorphous pulse heading in our direction within the hour. Joey and I called our game a draw as we were never really invested anyways and pushed our weighted bicycles under the pavilion. Hidden between the other campers, we decided that we waited long enough to assemble our tent. The couple returned not too long after with a bowl of strawberries. You remind us of our son Adam - he was a cyclist just like you. Must be Minnesota nice, we thought. The couple returned to their RV and we fell asleep shortly after. 

The storm had passed over night, and we rose early. I tore a blank page from my weathered notepad and wrote a thank-you note for the strawberries, pinning it under the blade of their windshield. A few days later, we received an email that carried more weight than our bikes could ever bear. 

Hi Casey & Joey,

We're glad that you enjoyed the strawberries.  We hope you and all your gear stayed dry through the rain. When I brought the strawberries over, I mentioned my son. Adam was smart, funny, cared deeply about others, and loved fresh fruits and vegetables. After he graduated from college in 2011, he worked for several years as a software engineer before joining the Peace Corps in 2015 to teach mathematics in Tanzania. Joining the Peace Corps had been a dream of his since high school.  What we didn't know is that Adam had been hiding severe depression from everyone since he was in middle school.

In 2016, near his 1 year in-country anniversary, he was sent home from Tanzania after seeking help following a suicide attempt. Once he got home, he underwent treatment for a while which didn't seem to help much. In 2017, he started working as a software engineer again until he died by suicide on his 27th birthday on July 11, 2018. Thank you for letting us share some strawberries and Adam's memory with you.

Sincerely, D. & C.

Attached by two metal carabiners, a whiteboard on the back of Joey’s bicycle tallied our miles and sparked conversation. With a damp rag, we erased everything and wrote “In Memory of Adam” surrounded by an assortment of strawberries drawn in red. And we rode the entire day together, carrying the memory of a man we never knew to the unknown places we have yet to discover. All three of us.

Minnesota, USA
Mile 339
June 22, 2020