Gerrie’s Story: Finding Connection in the Mountains

When Gerrie first walked into Mountain Resource Center’s Women’s Group on a Monday afternoon, she carried something many of our mountain neighbors know well: the quiet weight of isolation. Living over seven miles off the highway, she rarely saw people from day to day. “I didn’t have any friends up here,” she said. “I knew I needed some people to talk to, just to talk to. If I felt bad, I wanted to say that. If I felt good, I wanted to say that.” So, when her doctor handed her a flyer, she brought it home and thought, I might like this.

Walking into the room that first Monday took courage. “I sat in my chair… and I put my thumbs under my [legs] so I wouldn’t fiddle with them,” she remembered. She introduced herself, unsure of what would come next. What came was unexpected kindness. After she shared her story, one woman said, “You must be very strong to have gone through all that,” and Gerrie thought yes, nobody’s ever said that to me. Another woman added she wished she could give her a hug. Gerrie stood, accepted the embrace. “And then everybody was hugging me… wouldn’t you feel that was kind of a good introduction?”

When she went home, she couldn’t wait to come back.

Addie, the group’s facilitator, had started the Women’s Group because she saw just how isolated many women were in the foothills, especially after the pandemic. As she put it, “There [wasn’t] a particular support group for women up here… people were very isolated.” Rural mountain living can be beautiful, but it also creates distance—literal and emotional—that’s hard to close alone. For Gerrie, that distance began to shrink each week as she slowly realized she was among people who genuinely cared.

Gerrie says the women in the group “…have different backgrounds… they have different situations. Some of them have children… and some of them still have husbands. Some of them don’t. But they’re women, and they care.”

A few weeks in, she needed to know if what she felt was real. She asked the group a question she’d been carrying, “If I say something in here, [is it] going to stay in here, because that was an important thing to me.” Addie didn’t hesitate to reassure her, “Confidentiality is big,” she said. That simple assurance, spoken clearly and honored consistently, became the foundation of Gerrie’s trust.

With that trust established, the Monday conversations are a place where people can be open. One week, the discussion was about spirituality “What do people believe in?” Addie recalled, “And it was all different, and it was fascinating.” Other weeks it’s health (“but not the whole time—that’s boring,” Addie laughed), boundaries, or the complicated realities of adult children, dying parents, and grandchildren. What matters most is how the group talks. “We’re telling how we feel about things… and everyone understands and empathizes from a place of their own lived experience,” Gerrie said.

Listening—deep, present, non-judgmental listening—is the heartbeat of the group.

And when someone wants solutions, the group shifts gently. Addie shared how she sometimes comes in and says, “I really need help with this. I don’t get it. I don’t know what I could have done differently… what are some of your suggestions? And I really like that because I’ll get five different opinions, and I can take one of them home with me.” In this circle listening is the default and advice isn’t forced; it’s available by invitation.

Over time, that rhythm of listening, sharing, and showing up expanded far beyond Monday afternoons. When Gerrie fell and suffered multiple fractures, she spent ten days in the hospital and weeks recuperating alone in her home where lightning often disrupts phone service. One woman from the group made the long, winding drive up to check on her. “Addie came… she took me [to Women’s Group], and brought me home,” Gerrie said. “She was there for me.” In a place where storms and long distances can make people feel invisible, the group made sure she wasn’t alone.

The impact on her wellbeing has been profound. “My mental health is much, much better… my physical health, because my mental health is better, is probably better, because you can’t separate them, you know?” she said.

Eventually, Gerrie realized she had found exactly what she came looking for: her people. She celebrated her 80th birthday by inviting the entire Women’s Group to her home because, as she said, “they were the most important people to me, and I wanted them to meet my family.”

In our mountain region, where solitude can be as expansive as the views, this group has become a warm antidote to isolation, one Monday afternoon at a time.