Bittersweet Goodbyes

As we walk away from the dock at Dana Point Marina, our eyes fill with tears, ever so slightly, and our hearts are heavy. The first leg of our adventure has come to an end. We hug our daughter and grandsons, and son-in-law, wish them well on their journey, take a deep breath, and drive away. Saying goodbye is bittersweet.

But there is a part of us that says, "YES! Now WE can really begin our adventures!" It's like that old saying that the best part of being a grandparent is that you can give the kids back! That's not to say we won't miss them. Of course we will miss Andy and Dylan - but not the need for constant vigilance, the tears, the whining, the sibling conflicts, the defiance, the bedtime shenanigans, their energy-sapping activity level, or their picky eating habits - no, we will not miss that at all. But we WILL miss their smiles, their joy at seeing or doing something fun and new, sharing their excitement, teaching them, discovering things for the first time again with them, and just loving them and watching them grow. We will see them again in 3 months, then 6 months, then 18 months, a long time when they are only 4 and 6. Bittersweet.

In this first month we saw much of the pacific ocean, sandy beaches and big sand dunes, cheese being made, giant trees in Redwoods National Park, the Golden Gate Bridge and San Francisco, caves and rock formations at Pinnacles National Park, more beaches in southern California, Disneyland and California adventure parks, and all the sights in between. And as glad as we are to have helped make this whole trip of Sandi's possible by driving down the coast with the boys, we need to slow down. It's been a whirlwind month and we are ready for a much different pace, more relaxed, less scheduled. We need to get on with our lives.

We are about to leave the coolness at Camp Pendleton in Oceanside, CA and head for the desert, where the temperature will be in the 100s. Yikes! We plan to spend a few days with friends in Fort Mohave, AZ, waiting out the residual effects of Hurricane Rosa in Arizona. Then it's on to the Grand Canyon and Canyon de Chelly.

We will cherish the times we've had this past month, but look forward to sipping cold drinks with friends, swapping travel stories, learning from their 4-year RV trek, and just doing nothing for a few days. We need the time to rejuvenate and refresh ourselves before we head out into the unknown. Saying goodbye to one part of our lives, saying hello to another. Bittersweet.

A Life Interrupted

The following blog was composed on Thursday, September 13. Needless to say, today is not Thursday. It's Monday. After writing the blog and planning to post it the next day, we discovered, to our dismay, that we had no connectivity for 3 days in Pinnacle National Park. That is not, is not, I repeat, a totally bad thing at all, but it meant that it's been quite a while since I've updated our travels. We are now looking out over the Pacific Ocean at El Capitan State Park near Santa Barbara, CA. The sun is slowly sinking, the waves are crashing, the kids are playing in the tent (where they actually spent the entire night last night, alone, without Grandma and Papa! Yay!), and we have connectivity (but no electricity, much to Andy's chagrin - no TV).

So, pretend it's last Thursday. A Life Interrupted

It's been a week since I last wrote a post to my blog. I've tried a number of times, but was always interrupted. Interrupted, usually, by small voices needing this or that, or just wanting attention. It's been a week of interruptions - conversations cut short, thoughts cut short by other priorities, hikes cut short because small legs get tired out, even stays cut short - when it became apparent that the drive from Redwood National Park to Lake Chabot campground in Oakland would be 8 hours long, Sandi decided to take the car (and the kids) a day early, stopping along the way to cut the daily drive in half and visit a museum in Sausalito before joining us at the campground. Of course, that left Lew and me "stranded" at the campground, limited to hikes accessible from that locale only - a short nature trail and a stroll along the river - but did give us a moment of quiet among the tall, magnificent trees.

And time for some more reflection!

This drive down the coast is not for us. We finally accepted that. We can retrace our steps on the way home in 1 1/2 years and see all the sights and explore these and other places in California at our leisure. In the meantime we recognize that 4 and 6 year olds are not interested in the beautiful scenery, the amazing sunsets, the quietness of the forest or the magnificence of the redwoods (unless the tree has fallen and they can climb on it). No, they are interested in riding their bikes, playing with legos and crazy gears, watching DVDs, and talking at the speed of light, constantly. They like splashing in the ocean waves, playing in the sand, taking short hikes (under duress), and climbing on rocks. They like to eat every hour and invariably have to pee at the most inopportune times. Sometimes they get on each other's nerves (and more often on ours), but usually they entertain each other and play well together, giving us a brief respite in our responsibilities.

We have them alone now, for the next 12 days, before Disneyland and a reunion with their parents. This is "our life interrupted" - but interrupted in a good way. We understand better now that this trip is entirely about them and what they want to do and what they need (within reason - we have to have some standards, you know!). Not what we wand to do, or see, or need. We plan to thoroughly enjoy these last few weeks with our grandsons - playing games, listening (trying to teach them to listen), laughing, and having fun. Well, we'll try anyway. And we know we will miss them when we go our separate ways at the end of the month....miss them AND breathe a sigh of relief. In the meantime - bring on those interruptions!

We've gone about 1000 miles, with 5 or 6 hundred to go. We hope to enjoy these more. WE WILL enjoy these more.

PS since this post is coming 5 days later. We still get frustrated, but we've done much better. At the Pinnacles, part way on a cool hike, Dylan exclaimed, " I'm not impressed! " Shoot, but then we came to some really great rock formations and he was a "little" impressed, and then we walked through some caves and he was over the top excited. Patience. We are learning patience. And, now at the beach, they are having a fabulous time, playing in the surf, sleeping and playing in the tent, and everyone is getting along better (except during the bewitching hour - 5-8 pm. Still tough, but we are playing games - Go Fish and Ocean Bingo, so far. And the kids are only missing TV a little.

Heading down to Oceanside (Camp Pendleton Fam Camp) on Wednesday. Long drive through LA traffic. Only 8 days to Disneyland. The kids are counting.

 Redwoods

Oregon Coast with fog

Andy's 4th birthday party in Oakland on boat

View from El Capitan campsite

The Shifting Sands of Time

Thursday, September 6, 2018

Today I sit on a warm sand dune at Honeyman State Park, Oregon, watching my grandsons hurl themselves down the slope screaming in complete ecstasy. My mind is flooded with memories. 56 years ago I visited this park with my parents on our way to the Seattle World's Fair. I, too, a carefree 14 year old, screamed and laughed and ran into the lake at the bottom of the same slope enjoyed now by Andy and Dylan.

Dunes are the result of thousands of years of shifting, drifting sands. And so I think about the shifting sands of my own life - I'm no longer willing to run joyously down the dunes and my physical abilities are somewhat diminished, so I shudder to think how my knees and back might answer such an attempt with anger and pain. But that young girl still resides in this aging body and I can vicariously experience the thrill of that day half a century ago thanks to two young boys who are running with pure joy and delight, experiencing for the first time the awesomeness of the Oregon Dunes.

So much in my life has shifted and this 18 month trip across the continent is but a small example of how things have changed. Much of my life is behind me now, memories I can share with my grandsons. But Lew and I have time now, time to travel, time to reflect, time to experience the fullness of the years we have ahead of us. We are grateful.

It's the fifth day of our trip and we are slowly learning how to manage - our time, our emotions, our "stuff", our routines. It's not always easy, but even Demon, the cat, who we were sure was lost four days ago in Portland, has settled in. We've seen how cheese is made in Tillamook, enjoyed the beach and scenery at Cape Lookout, and run wild on the dunes. Tomorrow we head for California and the giant trees at Redwood National Park.

All in all, it's been a good first week.

We're Off

Picture this. It’s 8:15 on Saturday night. We are finally ready to embark on the adventure of a lifetime. Two very weary grandparents, an exhausted mother, two hyperactive, excited grandsons, and a reluctant, nervous grandcat (aptly named Demon). And off we go!

The 33 foot RV is packed to the gills with all the clothes and equipment we would need for a 4-season trip – think tennis, pickleball, skiing, biking, hiking, tent camping, and sightseeing in such diverse locations as Arizona, Texas, Minnesota, Labrador and Newfoundland, Colorado, Washington DC, and Mexico (and points in between). You get the picture! Then throw in enough food to feed five for 2 or 3 weeks, all the clothes, toys, books, car seats, and paraphernalia needed by a 4 and 6 year old, an old cat, litter box, and food, plus piles of stuff that needed to be hauled off Sandi’s boat to make room for crew members (for the voyage to San Francisco), not to mention the things that arrived too late to be loaded on the boat, and you have a very cozy (read chaotic and messy) living space, to say the least.

But off we went! We chose to leave at night to avoid Seattle traffic, which I suppose was light, since the packed freeway was moving at 60 mph. But there was still traffic to navigate, which Lew did with ease and self confidence, and I survived with only a few outbursts of “slow down”! Through Seattle, Tacoma, and Olympia we sped, reaching our destination – a rest area south of Olympia – by 11:20 pm.

Then we faced a spatial conundrum. The interior of our RV was a puzzle with moving pieces. In order to transition from function to function (driving mode to sleeping mode, for instance), we had to figure out where to put the cat’s food, the bag of toys and books, the shoes, the fruit basket, the blankets, the pillows, the car seats, and 9 stuffed animals (including a 4 foot ORCA), not to mention 5 people. But with a flurry of activity, puzzle solved, and we settled down for a long (no, actually very short, noisy) summer’s night on I-5. The adventure had begun!