The Secret Handshake

Dearest Rachel –

To be sure, Mom and Dad aren’t doing any more traveling from this point on. Between the logistic issues presented by his feeding tube (although, since the surgery, he hasn’t had to deal with any leaks that would otherwise force him to leave any event he was at at a moment’s notice) and their mutual frailty due to their advancing years, hopping on a plane and staying in a hotel overnight are no longer in the cards for their future. They realize it, and have come to accept it, more or less. Granted, this acceptance doesn’t completely squash the travel bug; he still longs to hear of the sights and experiences of this place and that when he can. It may be part of why he’s been surprisingly enthusiastic about my travels, despite my concerns about not being able to be here if he should need me; he still wants to go places and do things, and as I report back (and he reads over your shoulder about where I’ve been), he gets to live vicariously through my stories.

So, when the church presented both myself (and Daniel) and the folks with the opportunity to attend what they called their “stakeholders’ gathering” at a local hotel and conference center, they were desirous to go, yet fairly certain it wouldn’t be an option for them, for all the reasons I’ve just shared with you. However, after a visit from our lead pastor, who assured them that accommodations would be made to permit who he referred to as “the elder statesman” of the church to attend, they were persuaded to do so.

And since coming back from it last weekend, they have been raving about it ever since. Oh, they’ve mentioned that the walk from their room to the place where everyone was to meet was a long distance (and as a result, Dad was provided with a wheelchair, and there was always someone more than willing to push him where he needed to go), although given the amount of distance I regularly walk these days, that’s certainly a relative statement. But by and large, they can’t stop talking about what a wonderful time they had, and how they look forward to hearing from Daniel and me about our experience this weekend (the retreat is limited to a certain number of “stakeholders,” so not everyone can attend at once; there are five separate weekends over which this event is happening, and this weekend is only the third of them) and how it compares to theirs.

But for all their eagerness to talk about it, they can’t actually do so; they, like everybody else attending the retreat, have been sworn to secrecy as to the details of the event. And this is where it all begins to strike me as funny. I can tell that Dad is bursting to talk about it – but since Daniel and I haven’t been there, he can’t. His frustration is palpable, and I can’t help but be amused by it.

For my part, I find it strange to be so secretive about it all. I mean, I guess there’s something to be said about not spoiling whatever surprises they might have in store (although that was never your thing, and I think I may have developed a certain aversion to them myself, thanks to you), but what’s so important that everybody has to keep their mouths shut about it? You’d think we were being initiated into the Freemasons or some such; are we getting a special apron to wear, or learning the secret handshake? What on earth is going on with this?

I also don’t fancy it because, if the buildup gets to be too much, one tends to expect more than can be delivered, even though the church has gotten very good at delivering quality in terms of presentation (and, because of that, participation), and if the event doesn’t quite match the buildup, there might be some disappointment from being let down. It’s a tough line to walk, no mistake.

To be sure, the folks certainly don’t seem to have been let down by the event, but it’s not as if they’d had their expectation built up for the past week (although I’ve no idea what the pastor said about it that convinced them that it was imperative that they attend, despite the inconveniences presented by their age and ailments). So I’m probably making far too much of all of this.

Then again, I’ve been involved behind the scenes for far too long; I know how some of the sausage is made, so I might be looking for where the curtain is parted just a hair too much to see what’s behind it all. Not the best course of action, when I should probably just be going with the flow, enjoying the retreat as it’s been set up, and worshiping with everybody else without concerning myself with the ‘how’ and ‘why’ everything is being done.

At the same time, I’d be curious as to what the secret handshake is…

And while I won’t be able to tell you about it afterwards (or during, for that matter), since there are still two more of these gatherings to take place in the future, if you were to keep an eye on me, I wouldn’t have to relate the specifics of what happened to you, since you’ll be able to see it with your own eyes. Oh, but if you could still wish us luck, that would be appreciated, as I’m sure we’ll still need it, regardless.