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It happened again last winter. That breathless feeling of early December—the flustered shopping, wrapping, travel-planning, cookie baking, sifting through online collections of “holiday gifts for whoever in your life”—weighs on me every year. I struggle with gift-giving. Perhaps because I come from a long line of incredible gift-givers, with the ultimate contender for Most Likely to Be Mistaken for Santa Claus going to my Aunt Lucy.
I try my best when it comes to gift-giving. Every holiday season, my family and I spend hours on the phone trying to figure out who needs what. On one of these calls, my mom asked me what my husband, Croot, wanted. Because he’s a trail runner and fisherman who often ends up in the backcountry of Utah, I suggested we chip in for a Garmin inReach Messenger which allows two-way communication when you’re deep in the backcountry without cell service. It also has an SOS button to notify local authorities in emergencies, live tracking for added safety, and the ability to send messages—even if it’s just me reminding him to pick up dog food on his way home.
My mom wasn’t impressed. “It’s just a black box,” she said. To be fair, at $300, it does kind of look like an expensive black box.
The Package
Two days after the phone call with my mother, a small package arrived addressed to me and Croot. The return address was from Aunt Lucy. I placed it under the tree.
What you should know about Aunt Lucy, besides the fact that she is the most generous person in the universe, is that she was like a second mother to me. I lived with her during a rough patch in early adulthood; her home was a soft landing. As I matured and got my life together, she was my biggest cheerleader—always by my side, no matter what adventure or journey I chose, rooting for my success.
I tried my damndest to learn her gift-giving techniques. The secret? Genius-level listening and research. Aunt Lucy didn’t just shop; she spied, taking mental notes on the tiniest comments you made throughout the year. She also had a knack for discovering cool brands and gadgets before anyone else. My running wardrobe is dotted with early-edition gear from now-iconic brands like Vuori and Janji, thanks to her.
So, when that little package arrived I knew what had happened. Aunt Lucy had listened in to the conversation I was having with my mom (they were both working in the same office at their business in New Jersey) and decided this contraption was something both Croot and I needed.
She was not wrong. I run and hike trails in the Wasatch Mountains near my home in Utah where the only signal you get on your phone is SOS. That can be spooky, not to mention dangerous, especially when you’re alone.
She didn’t just get us the Garmin inReach Messenger, she got us the Garmin inReach Mini 2—an upgrade. While both devices will allow two-way text messaging in remote locations, the inReach Mini 2 provides advanced navigation with a special routing feature for retracing your path, GPS waypoints, and live tracking for increased safety.
When I called to say thank you, Aunt Lucy told me that she thought I’d like that it was lightweight (3.5 ounces) and she felt good knowing it wouldn’t run out of batteries unless I was out in the wilderness for more than 14 days. The fact that it looked like a cute walkie-talkie didn’t hurt, either.
Aunt Lucy wasn’t into hiking, and she definitely wasn’t a runner. But she knew that running and adventuring in the mountains were part of my life, so she made it part of hers by supporting me in her unique, thoughtful way.
RELATED: Great Holiday Gifts for The Running-Obsessed People on Your List
The Call
Two weeks after Christmas, I got a call from my older sister. I was sitting in the front seat of our Jeep waiting for my husband to pick up some groceries following a long hike. When I answered, I knew something was very wrong. Aunt Lucy had died.
I rushed to be with my family. Then there was the blur of planning—church, flowers, obituary, funeral home. When we went to Aunt Lucy’s place, her kitchen counter was set up like Santa’s workshop. There was wrapping paper, ribbon, toys, little treasures, and beautifully wrapped gifts ready to be delivered to her family and friends. It was one of those moments in life where laughing and crying simultaneously was the only appropriate response. Her house was filled with the joy of her essence and an overwhelming void.
The Garmin inReach Mini 2 in Action
Just last week, Croot took the Garmin inReach Mini 2 out for what was supposed to be a 30-minute run on the trails behind our house. It was chilly, the sun was setting, and the brush felt extra mountain lion-y that day. When he didn’t return after 50 minutes, I started to panic. I told our dog that if we didn’t hear from him in 20 minutes, we’d go looking.
With 10 minutes to spare before my rescue mission, I heard a ding on my phone. It was a message from Croot, sent via the Garmin Messenger App: “Got lost. Heading back to the car now.”
He had taken an unfamiliar path in Slate Canyon and ended up climbing over 1,000 feet up a deer trail before realizing he was completely off course. Using the inReach, he navigated back to the main trail and eventually to the car.
When I heard the alert, I immediately thought of Aunt Lucy. I know it was the satellites, but it felt like she was still facilitating communication, making sure Croot got home safely.
Like every one of Aunt Lucy’s gifts, it wasn’t just the physical item but what it meant. It was an offering of protection—a tangible item that symbolized all she had given the people in her life: joy, safety, and the gift of never being truly alone.
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