If you can’t sing, be the song

Hi. I’ve been thinking a lot about you lately. “You” being this side of me, I suppose. Going through old photos and boxes of letters recently we found the letter Aaron wrote to his groomsmen before our wedding. He titled it his Single Man’s Swan Song, it was an ode to a former piece of him, a letting go of the old and an invitation to take on the new alongside of him. In true Aaron-fashion he was the first of his buddies to get married (to have a kid, a business, etc) and he owned it. His place in his story, and his clear decision to add a partner to his life with an invitation extended to his confidants to continue the journey with him … but also with us.

We laugh now when we read his letter to his friends but it really stuck with me. I’ve been wondering if this is my Swan Song to this part of me. A farewell, a goodbye, a letting go. A distance but an invitation to the change. It has long since been my goal to be authored and published. To walk into a book store and see my name on the spine of a book. So, as one does at the end of a year or season or extended period of waiting, I re-evaluated my goals. This entire year has been one evaluation after another.

Do I want this?

Is this for me?

Can I walk in this?

Will this hurt me?

Does this help me?

Where is this moving me?

Am I ready?

Slowly, ever so slowly, I’ve noticed that whatever desire was in me to be known on paper has changed. To see ink printed with my words, as satisfying as that is, hasn’t worked out. I’ve tried and mostly failed. And that’s ok. I’m not sorry I tried, or sad that it didn’t work out, or even hung up on the idea that some day it surely will. Maybe I’ve already written my book. Likely, I’ve written many in these archives. Scores of seasons and transitions and living – all recorded. All ready ordered.

So some of it goes unwritten, who cares. Some of it doesn’t get archived here, but maybe, even better, it gets archived on the hearts of my children. It bubbles up out of the mouths of my dearest friends who walked this road with me, maybe one day they’ll tell part of my story for me when I no longer can.

And maybe, just maybe, I tell my story a little differently from here on out. Maybe I start talking. Maybe I start speaking. Maybe I start sharing. Maybe I start profusely sweating and blacking out on a stage while words fall out of my mouth and instead of carrying these chapters with me, maybe I let them out.

Who knows?

I sure don’t. 12 years ago when we decided I would stay home and be a mom I had no idea that a decade later I would still be writing. That, at one point, this writing would bring in a full time income and a community of complete strangers who got me through some of the hardest seasons to date. For anonymous people to mean so much to a person, it might be borderline, but also? It was a lifeline. It was my lifeline.

I’m plagued with What’s Next lately, not like I have been before. I’m not frantic for something to distract me, I’m curious as to where this is all going. What have I been doing to prepare myself for what’s next all these years? I live on standby right now, with one parent who runs a company the sacrifice to the family is that changes, big or small, need to be leveled at a baseline. Here’s how far we can stretch and still bend, together. But this, this is where we break. We have to know where that point is. And we do, we know that point – so I continue to be a mom. I continue to freelance photography and when I stop being afraid of query letters – it’s how I continue to write outside of this space and flex those muscle’s too.

Should someone get sick, should the kids have a break or vacation from school – I’m on standby to supervise. I’m the constant parent. But I have a constant partner.

Aaron and I celebrated our 13th wedding anniversary this past August. It was delicious. I wrote (on Facebook) that I finally trust in marriage. God, it’s beautiful. I don’t deserve this life but I get to keep living it. It’s not lost on me that marriages all around me fall down. That friends suffer loss, that my own family suffers loss. I’ve spent the better part of the last thirteen years with my back against the wall waiting for the suffering to befall my house. Surely it was coming, I was due. And if I wasn’t going to suffer loss of love, I was up to bat to lose a life.

Ever so subtly I started backing away from the wall and embracing the vulnerability of stepping in with both feet. I would say something out loud and Aaron wouldn’t shun me. I would stand in front of him, naked in spirit, and ask him if he could see me and he would dance with me. I would sit next to him while he held our babies and I would whisper “is this pretend?” and he would look at me and promise with his eyes that I could trust this. I’ve cried a lot this year (spoiler alert!) because I didn’t know. I had no idea.

How can this be? For me?

It is. IT IS IT IS IT IS IT IS. This is for me. !!!!!!!! HOLY SHIT THIS IS FOR ME.

And I have no more words. I’m not searching for anything, I found it.

xoxo
Jodi

Day six, seven, and eight.

We left Montana and knew that by the time we stopped for the evening on day 6 we would be in Washington. As we were driving through mountains and crossing boarders and stopping for gas or bathroom breaks – the closer we got the more I started to recognize where we were. The smells were familiar, the backdrops were from my memories.

I was getting excited and ready to be there but I was also apprehensive and nervous. Gut checking my expectations, leaving them behind to just experience whatever was in my today. Right now. There was a song (even before we left) that I had started listening to that made me cry every time. A line in the song has to do with finally having a family, I don’t know, I’m sentimental I’ll give you that, but this was more. I was belonging to something, somewhere. And we were almost there.

The first place we stopped we decided to pass on (a first for the trip) and we kept heading west until we found a campground in the middle of nowhere. It was someone’s yard. The town looked like it was out of a movie set from the 30’s and even the bank was closing. There was one restaurant, the grocery store had closed. One gas station with $3 kleenex that we bought them out of. We ate dinner at the only restaurant and went back to our camper for the night. Trains were frequent and loud but the sunset was the most beautiful thing I had seen.

Drove a long way to see this today.

I think I was wary on day six. My nerves were a little shot, we had the first experience of a disappointing stop, the build up of arriving was starting to cap … it was time to land.

The next morning we got up and on our way, hitting up a breakfast spot along the way and making it to Fort Worden for our last night on the road.

Fort Worden, WA Day 7
Fort Worden, Day 7
Fort Worden, Day 7
Fort Worden, Day 7
Fort Worden, Day 7
Fort Worden, Day 7
Fort Worden, Day 7
Fort Worden, Day 7
Fort Worden, Day 7

If you don’t mind some home-video and can stomach a walking camera and a newbie figuring out how to focus and manage changing light … well then give it a go:
Fort Worden

We made our first fire of the road trip, ate our first s’mores. Met our neighbors, thought we lost the kids and as we watched a creepy yellow van with his windows card-boarded up drive slowly out of the park I saw myself on the local news begging for my children’s safety and return … in reality, while we were running around and looking for them, they were collecting shells and having hot chocolate with our neighbors. So, I pooped my pants, metaphorically. But also, what the four letter words. We slept soundly that night, feet away from the beach and all in one place.

Day 8 was here! By my calculations we had a small drive to our final destination so we could spend some time at Fort Worden, but also in Port Townsend doing some sight seeing and shopping and lunching and generally things not having to do with sitting in a car. And we did. Slowly ambling around Port Townsend, getting lunch and coffee, and our first souvenirs.

Fort Worden, Day 8
Fort Worden, Day 8
Fort Worden, Day 8
Fort Worden, Day 8
Fort Worden, Day 8
Port Townsend, WA Day 8
Port Townsend, WA Day 8

We even packed up and spent more time at Fort Worden at their Whale exhibit and their Marine learning center with the kids before we got back in the car and started driving … then suddenly stopping in a long line of cars headed for a ferry that you would need a reservation to board. Which we did not have.

Fort Worden, Day 8
Fort Worden, Day 8
Fort Worden, WA (day 8)
Fort Worden, WA (day 8)

I loved this place.

So our last day of travel was supposed to be a teeny little trip. But it turned out longer and bigger than we thought – and included a ferry for the kids and an eventual arrival at our house with actual beds that night.

We were almost home.

Montana: Lewis and Clark State Park

We landed in Montana on the 5th day – I’m pretty sure Aaron did some driving because he kept taking videos of the mountains while driving. He was seeing this landscape for the first time, winding hills dotted with cattle. An endless horizon and blue sky. He wasn’t just a passenger, finally šŸ™‚ I remember being pretty excited about this development.

Montana is windy. Just, you know, like 25 mile an hour winds on a vista. That same vista our little pop-up camper was parked for the night in the open air between mountain peaks. We had conquered rain and thunder, clapping skies and sheets of rain. We had been through heat and fevers and the flu. Wind though? We didn’t really know what to do with wind. (Video of wind)

Montana - Lewis and Clark State Park

So we played games.

Montana - Lewis and Clark State Park
Montana - Lewis and Clark State Park
Montana - Lewis and Clark State Park

We walked around the camp ground for a bit and read some signs: we were in bear territory and on the menu for dinner? Sausage. Eggs. Breakfast for dinner … inside the camper.

Montana - Lewis and Clark State Park

Montana - Lewis and Clark State Park
Montana - Lewis and Clark State Park

The crackling of the stove and the smell of cooking breakfast with wind whipping through our camper, the kids sitting at the table playing games with snacks, and Aaron finally functioning as a human. This was a new normal by day 5. Rugged, dirty, take it as it comes living.

With Aaron’s new found sea legs for traveling he was also all of a sudden aware of time passing. And how much more opportunity there was to FILL THAT TIME WITH SEEING EVERYTHING. We laugh about it now, but his being sick for the first 5 days was really a blessing. We actually traveled. He can take about 2 hours in the car before he needs to stop and look around. About 30 minutes before he starts complaining about being in a car. And yet, we love to travel this way.

Which meant that after dinner we started asking around wondering if there was anything “to do around here.” We hopped back into the car for a little field trip.

Montana - Lewis and Clark State Park
Montana - Lewis and Clark State Park
Montana - Lewis and Clark State Park

And this was the new soundtrack to my days:

Montana - Lewis and Clark State Park

Water and birds, all kinds of hidden bugs singing, little feet stepping, constantly parenting, and always wide-eyed wondering.

We were almost there. I started seeing sunsets behind mountains and recognizing the smells in the air. I also stopped showering thinking the next place wouldn’t charge $3 for five minutes of water … Note to self: keep quarters.

Mt. Rushmore and the Black Hills.

On day four we woke up to birds chirping and the kids playing right outside the camper door.

Center Lake Campground, Custer State Park

They were cleaning their rocks, you see. Completely busy and unaware. The air was clean and the coffee was on it’s way. We fell in love with camping in Custer State Park.

Center Lake Campground, Custer State Park
Center Lake Campground, Custer State Park
Center Lake Campground, Custer State Park
Center Lake Campground, Custer State Park
Center Lake Campground, Custer State Park
Center Lake Campground, Custer State Park
Center Lake Campground, Custer State Park

After breakfast we packed up and headed out for the day. Mount Rushmore was on the schedule, driving through the Black Hills and Custer State Park was probably our favorite day of the trip out west. It was breathtaking and a good amount of time outside of the car at the monument meant the travel time was mostly anticipation between stops.

Day 4: Mt Rushmore

It’s also the only place we have a photo of all 4 of us šŸ™‚

Day 4: Mt Rushmore

We had a great time learning more about how Mt. Rushmore was made, blasted out of the mountain side. How long it took, and what the presidents meant for the country at the time. The kids also spent their souvenir money at the gift shop: surprise surprise, they bought stuffed animals.

Day 4: Mt Rushmore
Day 4: Mt Rushmore
Day 4: Mt Rushmore

We had lunch and learned that President Jefferson was the first guy to introduce ice cream to the states. His recipe was on a plaque – and everyone was eating expensive tourist ice cream. (Except us, oh well!)

That night we stayed in Buffalo, WY at a KAO. There was a creek rustling through our backyard, we had amazing neighbors, and it was the first night we built a fire on the trip.

Buffalo, WY Day 4
Buffalo, WY Day 4
Buffalo, WY Day 4
Buffalo, WY Day 4

Day 5 we started driving through Montana and paying for showers…

Sight seeing through South Dakota and Custer State Park

Our third day of travel was what I always think about (poetically) when someone mentions a road trip. Scenic overlooks, random, yet memorable, passenger car diners on the side of the highway for lunch, great weather.

We went from gas light to gas light on day 3 in one stretch and where there was no gas station on our google maps for a good 12 more miles as the car was running on fumes with a sick Aaron, hungry kids, and very full bladders – there was this one, out of nowhere. Like a mirage, it appeared without warning or signage or welcome. It was just there, off I90.

That’s what Day 3 felt like. Small miracle after small miracle. Time stopped.

Day 3: on the road
Day 2: on the road
Day 3: on the road

We took our time to enjoy the trip. Stopping at the Badlands, Wall Drug, and finally ending up at Center Lake campground in Custer State Park.

Day 3: on the road
Day 3: on the road
Day 3: on the road
Day 3: on the road

Wall Drug was everything it promised to be, cheesy. Touristy. A must see at least once in your life and a place to spend your souvenir cash. I did a similar trip with my parents the summer between 9th and 10th grade out west, so I had been to Wall Drug before (I had even been to the Yogi Bear campground from the night before as well). It was odd to be in the same places, take the same photos as I did 18 years ago. Everything has changed, absolutely everything from my first memories to now – not one thing is the same. Except it was all eerily unchanged. Same chipped paint statues to sit next to, same stores and salt water taffy, same smells.

Day 3: on the road

This alley was my first sight of Wall Drug this time (we went in the back way) and it felt so incredibly right. Something I had never seen before. It made so much sense to me to see the guts first this time. To see what is supposed to be hidden, this isn’t what the billboards promised for the last 300 miles. And it’s what I saw first. Pallets. Blue barrels lined up against a brown wall. And then we went inside.

Day 3: on the road

And nothing had changed.

Day 2: on the road

Except everything was different.

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That night we arrived at Custer State Park looking for a campsite. Center Lake was where we landed and the kids quickly took off to explore. There were rocks to climb, lakes to visit, a campground to inspect. Water to discover and friends to make.

Night 3, Custer State Park
Night 3, Custer State Park
Night 3, Custer State Park
Night 3, Custer State Park
Night 3, Custer State Park
Center Lake

Center Lake is where this trip became our family trip – and not a walk down memory lane.

It rained like the world was ending that night. Thunder so loud I would sit straight up. Heart beating wildly, curled in a ball between lightning strikes and praying like crazy to see the morning light just one more time. We stayed dry, and you guys – I keep saying this because our camper has so many holes. Just so many. Patches, but holes. And we stayed dry that night (and every other night). The kids slept through it and somewhere in the middle of the night I stopped waking up to every gong of nightmarish thunder. With every crack of the skies above me, separated from the elements only by vinyl fabric and a couple blankets.

And we woke up on day 4 to birds chirping, fires crackling, and the kids already playing.