Day 5 + 8: Cut the String?

When is the real question.  When do I 'cut the string?'

The week before I left on my adventure, I received a phone call from a friend of mine asking "do you mind if I get some string to make wrist ties for all of the people that are supporting you in this?"  She explained to me that it was something she had done before the birth of her child and that it helped 'tie everyone together.'   I assured her that I was fine with it and didn't think too much further on it.  I was under the impression that this was something that would be distributed when we were all together the last day of the walk and that was all there was to it.  Well, little did I know what was taking hold...

Finding the right string was no simple feat.  In the days before I left, my friend called me to tell me that at last, she had found the right string.  Orange string, not readily available in Napa.  I am not sure how she knew that orange was perfect but she did.  Orange is...the color I have always described my hair, was my son's die-hart favorite for the first six years of his life, the color of our playroom walls (Tangerine Sherbert to be exact), the color I had my toes painted each time before I went into treatment, and coincidentally, the 'official' ribbon color for skin cancer.  So on with orange.

The next 'string related call' was the day before departure to inform me that she had just completed the first tying---her family including two kids, and two dogs  (I think the chickens had a waiver)--- and that she was en route to tie us up too.  She arrived on my doorstep and banded me and then proceeded on to the hotel around the corner to wrangle my father, mother and kids swimming in the pool.  Job #2 done.  At this point, I realized she was serious but I still wasn't clear on the power of the act at hand.

On with our adventure.  As our morning departure at my children's school unfolded, I began to notice there were a few other banded cohorts.  And then, lone behold, I jumped on boarded and strung a few myself--my children's teachers, a dear friend and her daughter, a friend that joined us along the way... something was happening.   As the day went on, I started to hear word of other wild banding encounters--the school office got hit, principal included and our dear friend and nursery school teacher was tracked down.  During the day,  I received a call asking me 'how can I get a string.'  Wow!

In the next days of our walk, I took the opportunity to orange knot a few others---Ian, the kayak guy, my dear friend from Berkeley that met us for a meal, our host family in San Rafael---slowly but surely, a web of orange string was crossing the miles.  

In all of the stringing fun, the one guideline that was never provided was, when to cut the string. Unlike those nasty fiber-filled bands from the unlimited ride admission, I didn't feel like I wanted to just snap my string because I hit mile 76.  There was more to it than that, and I had become a bit attached to the band---symbolically it didn't seem right.  So, I set in my mind that there was going to be a 'right point.'  Maybe Day 5 + 5, five days after I was home, but that came and went.  Or maybe + 7, a  week later, but here we are on + 8 and I am 'still strung.'  However, the thing I noticed today is that...I am not the only one that is still strung!  I noticed five other strings out there in my daily activities, none on my own family.  I had someone raise their wrist across a crowded school yard to show me theirs still in tact, saw another friend's peak out from a shirt sleeve and I even received some advice from a friend's husband on how he had used a bit of soap on his to wash it up (he noticed mine was filthy from my Sunday of gardening).  So, clearly, the answer has not presented itself yet so I will remain strung until further notice!

Thank you sweet Anissa for adding yet another amazing chapter to my adventure.  I would never have imagined that orange string could be so powerful!  And, I am brighter now, I followed his advice, applied soap, and lost the garden shadow.