home bittersweet home

I suppose I need to back up just a bit.

Rewind to Sunday. The movie at the base theater was great, and the girls were just a little bit caught off guard when they had to stand for the National Anthem before the movie started. It goes with the territory. Then, as a tri-fold celebration, we headed to Chuck E. Cheese. McKinley has accomplished staying dry overnight, Reagan for her upcoming bday, and

Kennedy for such a good report card of all A's (she takes after her mom, for sure). The girls were excited, but us adults were a bit disappointed. There weren't a whole lot of games, and of those there, many weren't working. Beware, Chuck E. Cheese, for there is a complaint letter headed your way.

Monday morning - Up, dressed, out the door by 9:00. Headed an hour south to

Wilmington. Our first stop was at the dry-docked USS North Carolina. She was put into action after the US was attacked at Pearl Harbor. We spent three whole hours touring the big ship. The girls actually enjoyed our explorations there. Kennedy is now old enough to somewhat understand and appreciate the history of such a place, so the visit had the most impact on her. Lunch was at a food court at a nearby mall (not overly tourist-y or exciting, but we were prepared to have to buy Reagan a new pair of pants -- she got them extremely wet on the deck of the ship, thanks to a very rainy day--of course, during lunch, the pants dried). The last stop was bowling. Our kids had Wii bowled, but never real bowled, so off we went. The whole experience was new to them.....and me. Sad as it is, I had lived 31 years with not once having bowled myself. K and R did fairly well throwing their ball somewhat normally. McK had this routine down: walk up to the line, set the ball down, give it a slight push, run back to Mom and Dad, then 1 minute later watch and see what pins were knocked down. Reagan succeeded once at throwing the ball backwards....something we thought was only possible on the Wii, when all the people hop up to avoid contact with the ball :) Shock of all shocks, the first ball I threw was a strike, and Aaron was speechless at my long-hidden talent. The game ended with me beating him.....and I shall never live that down. The night itself ended with supper back in the hotel room with birthday cupcakes for dessert (thanks to Food Lion, since I had no oven to use).

Tuesday....ah, Tuesday. I woke early that morning, trying to psych myself up to being happy and cheerful. It was leaving day, the day that couldn't be avoided. As I lay there awake, the sleeping sounds of my three children on air mattresses and my husband beside me, I finally made the connection that my brain had kept stumbling upon for days. When we first went to the beach on Saturday, McKinley was oblivious to the pounding water and waves. She was so caught up with what was immediately surrounding her--seashells. It wasn't until I pointed out to her what she was headed toward--the water--that she noticed it and slightly feared it. That was what Tuesday was for me. I spent my days in NC completely absorbed with the present, enjoying every minute, every comment, every laugh, every hug, and it wasn't until Tuesday smacked me in the face that I saw what was headed my way. There was no sense in running from it. Here it was. As knew would happen, the few hours we had together flew by. Breakfast at McD's, then time to fulfill a promise: back to the beach. Of all the things we did on this trip, our kids' favorite was the one thing we spent no money on.

When we parked at the beach, I noticed that our surroundings seemed to echo my still-hidden spirits. Gray clouds, occasional spits of rain, violent waves pounding the beach. And, quite significantly, I think, the seashells had done their best to disappear. No more soaking up all the goodness immediately surrounding us..... However, we all did our best to ignore the impending gray of the day. The girls collected what shells they could. Aaron taught Kennedy how to walk out on the sand until the water chased them back, running quickly away. Some people walking along the beach gave the girls a sand dollar they had found. The girls wrote their names in the sand. We threw bread to the seagulls, and Reagan called out to them with their "seagull language", her squwaks that she said were how the birds talked. She promised that they talked back to her. Back at the hotel, we quickly packed up the car. Quietly and sadly, we all knew in our hearts what was next. Goodbyes, hugs, tears. I was sad for my husband, for my daughters, and for my little family. How sweet it was that we spent these few days together, away. I went through so many hassles just to make this trip happen, all for that reason.

When I finally got myself and my girls calmed down, about a half hour in to our return trip, Aaron called. Odd. Usually he waits awhile before calling me like this. However, he knew that I needed to know. He had received a phone call from our school with the message that one of my students had died. So much for my tears being dried up. I spent the next 5 hours trying to process, understand, grieve. We don't often get answers to our "why" questions.

As if the day weren't enough, I had one more trial left to conquer. Nighttime, darkness, rain, fog. The GPS was my sole navigation, and because of the dark, it would override whatever path my printed out Mapquest directions told me to take. Instead of taking the tunnel through the mountains in West Virginia to get to my hotel 20 minutes away, which was supposed to be right off this highway, GPS said to turn. So I turned. It said to take this highway, so I took this highway. In a few short minutes, I wished I hadn't. It had me headed up the mountain. No thanks. I'd much rather go straight through it, head on. However, at that point, there was no going back. The road was so narrow, the curves were so sharp, that I simply could not turn around. I crept along at maybe 10 mph. No other cars, lights, houses could be seen. I strictly informed the girls that if they made a single sounds, it'd better be a prayer to God. It was all I could do to not chuck that GPS down the mountain. I prayed hard, and then I told the GPS that I hated its guts. Then I prayed more. I know it sounds silly, but I was scared to death. My mind was forming all sorts of scary scenarios, from Bigfoot to falling trees to me plummeting down the mountainside. 15 minutes into it, I shouted, "Crap." I had feared this was coming. The road all but disappeared from view, because now it was time to head back down the mountain. Repeat all that happened so far, except pointed downward instead of upward. When at last we got to somewhat level ground and off the mountain, I sobbed, for the third time that day. I was scared to death. I hated my GPS. 15 miles down the road, we got to the hotel....and saw that it did sit just a few hundred feet off the interstate that I was originally on. Lesson to be learned here? Memorize your route and don't trust technology? It's always better to face your trials head on instead of trying to go around them? Never travel in West Virginia?

We arrived home tonight. The girls were excited to be home. It was Reagan's birthday. I lugged in all our luggage, but I wish I could've found a place to leave my heavy heart. Currently, it's home to one sadness piled on top of another.