And so it begins, a week of traveling, trepidation, warmth, love and laughter on a trip to Cory’s in the neighboring state to see the new baby and other two young grandchildren.
Before even getting to the main highway, Samuel plays chicken (of sorts) with another car passing on the right, a no no, but no big deal as there are two lanes for a short way due to a turn off.
But for me, anxious to be vulnerable in a car, already foreseeing ungodly car wreaks with me in them, the sudden pedal to the medal spurred me from a reverie of working to slow breathing and calm down to a sudden surge in heart rate with accompanying terror, the gassing and immediate rush of speed making my body spurt out cortisol, or whatever it does when feeling threatened.
“What are you doing?” I asked fearfully, “What are you doing?”
Looking up to see the other car, I realized Samuel became angry because someone dared to pass on the right and retaliated by using our car.
“Just let the assholes be assholes,” I said, and for the next 5 hours he received one word answers to his questions, except for the two word sentence to one of his grunts of complaint (SHUT UP, my longest speech). After my anger which squashes the real feelings which are hurt, tears came hanging head as they fell giving in to them.
That was the start of many challenges that couldn’t be met successfully because it was just too dam hard being elsewhere besides home.
Yet on this last day the memories cherished, the baby smiling up at me in my arms, the other two little ones nestled in my lap, hearing them call my name on the front porch when going out to join them as they played with the bubble makers we gave them, “Hi Nana!” each exclaimed, and the laughter between my son and his wife, all these memories I take home in my heart to weave in and out over and over with warmth and love as long as my lungs still breathe.
Yes, there are challenges, but also great abiding love.