An Indecent Proposal

"Bridget, if I divorce my wife, will you marry me?"

I shook my head and smiled at the man-child sitting in front of me. A big guy in his early thirties, Jack is a sweetly simple fellow with an unruly head of brown hair and big blue eyes that look perpetually inquisitive. "No, Jack. That's very sweet of you, but my future plans involve a few acres in upstate New York, two big dogs, and a shotgun."

Jack's the son of one of my participants, and they're two of my favorite people to visit. His mom, Hannah, always greets me at her screen door with a big, toothless smile and a "Come on in, girl!" I usually like to try to end my day at their house; they have a porch that hangs above the road below, and I've spent many a relaxing afternoon sitting there with them, watching the wind blow through the trees amidst the chirping of their many birds. They're the kind of people with whom awkward silences don't exist. Just comfortable ones.

In April, Jack had asked Lucas and I to come over on a Saturday for a trail ride that's held annually at the Sugar Camp Saddle Club. Every year, thousands of people come to camp out there with their horses and spend the weekend riding the miles of trails around the area. We gladly obliged, bringing with us another volunteer, Alex, and plenty of food for a cook-out. It was a really wonderful day, spent talking, barbecuing, and looking at the horses and their riders as they trotted along the road in front of the house. It was plain to see that Jack was on top of the world to have the rare opportunity to entertain company. Before we left, we all signed a contract mandating Jack to quit smoking; if he didn't, and he lit up in my presence, I was given license to hit him. The contract still hangs on their refrigerator, to the great amusement of anyone who visits the house.

On this day, I asked Jack how his visit with his wife had been. She lives in Louisville, where she works in a nursing home and takes care of her aging father. Jack, meanwhile, stays in Owsley County to take care of Hannah. As a result, they only see each other once every several months. He said that his visit had gone well, but that he'd been mugged by three men after leaving the grocery store on his last day there. He crossed the room and had me feel his throat, which was still sporting a nasty knot from where one of the men had punched him. He never reported it; law enforcement isn't all that it should be down here. I was alarmed by the size of the bump, and begged Jack to schedule an urgent visit at the medical clinic for the following day. He's the kind of person that you instinctively want to protect from anything bad in this world. He nodded his head in response to my request, eyes wide, and promised that he would call the next morning.

Conversation then turned to their upcoming family reunion at Natural Bridge. They've been talking about it for months now, and they've graciously invited me to come. When I thanked them, Jack shook his head.
"You and Lucas are the best friends I've ever had," he said, nodding gravely. "I mean, I've had friends in my life, but I never met anyone like you two."
Hannah nodded in agreement. "There's some people who'll stab you in the back, then turn ya 'round and stab ya again. But you all are like family."
Jack grinned. "When you all come to visit after you leave here, don't do anything silly like stay in a hotel or nothin'. We got beds here. Don't make no sense to stay someplace else when you got friends with room."

I was truly grateful for their hospitality. Not because their living quarters are a grand show of luxury; on the contrary, rooms of their house are literally disintegrating off of the foundation. It was, rather, the authenticity with which they freely opened their home and their family to me that almost brought tears to my eyes. I can't imagine having a heart so pure and a capacity to love so great that I could generously accept - as Hannah and Jack have - relative strangers with such grace and ease. The only thing we've ever done for the two of them has been to sit and talk with them. But I've found that, more often than not, that's the only thing that human beings require to truly be happy: to know that they count.

As I prepared to leave, Hannah clapped a weathered and care-worn hand on my shoulder and shouted, "We better see you at that reunion, girl!"

I wouldn't miss it for the world.

Besides, there will be banjos.