Our trip was amazing and wonderful, and happening a year before Pete died, memorable. Our trip coincided with a return to Sussex County of a couple I knew marginally. Beth and I shared employment in the same school district and had some friends/relatives in common. Beth and her husband and their two young boys were living with Beth's parents until they could find and buy their own home. It was a perfect deal: Beth and her family got a place to live for a month in the summer, and I got caretakers to look after the house and pool.
Beth and Doug quickly named the house "Vacation Sam's," and their boys were thrilled to live in this unique log home filled with trains and baseballs and books, not to mention an Irish Setter named Killian. The name so inspired me, I began writing books about "Vacation Sam" and his dog Killian. No, I never sought publication. I just had fun writing and illustrating the books.
Well, the real "Vacation Sam" is now living in the Southwest, and I spent the last week visiting him, which explains why you have not seen a blog post by me for awhile. Let me just say that there was beer involved. There are a lot of breweries in Fort Collins.
Was I on vacation? It was Thanksgiving, and all three of my kids with their significant others were there. The weather was relatively mild, and there were several activities (aside from a wonderful Thanksgiving, hosted by Sam's girlfriend's parents) like concerts, movies, dining out, hiking, and just generally enjoying one another's company. Sounds like a vacation, right?
It was. But it came with a price. I had to confront the one thing that was missing from this ideal family vacation. The dad. Pete has been gone almost sixteen years, and I have navigated my widowhood relatively well. (And, yes, there is a significant other in my life now, and I love him and the relationship we have.) But here were Pete's adult children: smart, compassionate, focused, hopeful, and on the verge of having all that we hold dear: a home, a career, a family. And why wasn't Pete here to revel in that?
So I had a minor meltdown in a restaurant midway through our time together. Of course, my kids were concerned and comforting. But their partners were equally so. I felt so loved, so honored, so blessed . . . and all of that in contrast to the initial pangs of loneliness and loss and anger at the Universe that Pete was taken from us.
Perhaps the meltdown was cleansing. For all these years, I have controlled my meltdowns. I have not cried much, just wanting to appear "strong" for my children. There was something relieving about letting my emotions out. Kind of like a vacation from the day-to-day.
Vacation Sam. And Jenna. And Katrina. Pete's kids. And mine. We have many more roads to travel. And road trips are my favorite kind of vacation.
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| Vacation Sam and his mom |
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