A Montana Summer: Day 13

It's crazy. I'm finally at a point in this vacation where I yearned to be. Only took 13 days.

The house is completely empty of people except for Austin who is still sleeping soundly this morning. I'm lying on the couch doing exactly nothing except staring out the windows at the gray sky and trees with flittering leaves in the foreground. Another big window contains the same gray sky with a gray lake rippling left to right with hazy purple hills on the other side. I can hear the trucks and cars in the distance on the highway up behind the house. It's like soothing waves of the ocean. The cheap decorative clock on the wall over my head has a lovely, just loud enough, tick tock that adds to the monotonous, droning sounds.

It's the perfect conditions for thinking or writing. I always heard of people escaping to be alone in a quiet place to write. I always wanted to have a chance to do that. I'm pretty ok being alone. And I don't mind being alone with my thoughts.

But I've got to learn how to be quiet and alone when I'm not the perfect atmosphere as I am now. Being quiet and alone are the only ways to organize my thoughts. To have a chance to let my mind wander without distractions.

And it's been building. I thought maybe I don't need to write anymore. And maybe I don't. Maybe it s just this setting that I imagined if I were a writer, it's how I saw myself doing it. However, the longer I go thinking without writing, the more distressed I feel and become. I need the outlet. And I enjoy the feedback if I get lucky to get any.

So even after this little vacation where conditions seem perfect today, I need to figure out when conditions are not perfect, but instead normal, how to create a gray quiet morning in my mind. I need to learn how to imagine a lulling backdrop. I need to figure out how to escape and be alone even when activity is around or chores and projects are calling me.

So what am I thinking or wanting to write about? I've asked myself this over and over while being too busy to actually do either of them, and also thinking maybe I don't have anything I need to write about anymore.

But the more I consider it, I feel like I'd really love to explore where I am spiritually or philosophically, that is, if I am anywhere at this point. That's what I think about the most these days. I'd love to immerse myself in remembering all the monumental turning points where I thought -- this is something, that was something. And ask now, what that something? Or did I just force it to be something?

I know the memories will only be impressions at this point, but impressions are what shapes us and gives the framework to who we are. I'd like to sit with those impressions and thoughts. I'd like to see if I can put in words for myself who I am now and how I got here.

For example, if I were to start today, perhaps I'd start with the memory of when I "walked down the aisle" in church to "become a Christian". I put those in quotes because those phrases now seem so churchy. I mean, unless you grew up with that vocabulary, who would understand what either of them mean?

So there. I think I'd start with that story the next time I find the quiet.

But now I must go get Mr. Austin his meds and get his day started. We are a little off schedule here in Montana. The late sunsets make us think it's much earlier than it is. So we stay up quite late and Austin sleeps in late. The mornings really are the perfect time for me to think the thoughts if I can figure out how to be alone. I got lucky today.

A Montana Summer: Day 7

My whole goal for this summer's vacation was to become completely and utterly bored. Sitting by the lake, staring into space bored. Bored out of my mind bored.

But here I am, one week into this thing, and I have barely sat down since I've arrived. Instead of utterly bored, I'm utterly exhausted. But in a good way and by choice, I suppose.

My husband asks me, "Are you pregnant? Why do you seem like you are nesting?!"

My middle son tells me repeatedly, "Why are you working so hard? Just sit down and relax!"

Well people, I can't relax until I have my space the way I want it. I need unfamiliar spaces to be organized before I can sit back and relax. I also like to stay on top of cleaning clothes and surfaces since I know in a few weeks I'll be packing it all up again and leaving. It's just my way of being I guess.

Now don't get me wrong, I've laid in the sun on the dock for a half hour here and there; I've sat on the deck watching the sunset; I've played a couple of card games. I plan to work a puzzle or two. I plan to  read or listen to a book or two.

But mostly I've done projects and chores thinking once I get them done, I'll be able to immerse myself in boredom.

Maybe. We'll see.

A Montana Summer: Day 2

The AI in my van asking if I'd like to take a break. She was quite the nag. Dad and I nicknamed her "mother". That's what my kids like to call me when they hit their max nag quota from me. LOL.

Well, hello again. It's been a while.

I thought I'd give writing a go again for a bit. We are on a summer adventure in Montana. It was so successful last year traveling with Austin, that we thought we'd do it again this summer. So I thought maybe writing a few words about it here and there might be fun and, of course, therapeutic. Because let's face it, traveling in close quarters with family on "vacation" is not always idyllic.

Let's just go back a few days to when we left the house to embark on an 18 hour road trip to our destination, husband driving his truck, and me driving Austin's wheelchair van. My dad and middle son along for the ride and to help drive.

I decided to let my dad have the first couple hours because I had, per usual, started packing late and stayed up late to finish. Not the best plan if you are going to drive 9.5 hours the next day. I mean, I have my list, of course so I thought I could just zip down it and throw stuff together since I've found if I start too early, I obsess over what I've already packed and worry too much. So I procrastinate all day until I just can't put it off any longer. It usually works out.

So dad was driving. I tried to settle in for a short nap so I could take over after a while. Once we got on the highway, I settled in and closed my eyes. Or tried. I couldn't just keep them closed. I kept feeling the van's movement: a steering correction here, a braking there. So I'd peek an eye open to check what was going on.

Let's just say, apparently I'm a control freak. As a guy, of course dad was driving way too close to Patrick's truck (or any other car that got between us) for my comfort, hence the braking. Plus he was learning the subtleties of a new-to-him vehicle, thus the steering corrections. I just couldn't. I spent more time watching the road with one eye open than resting/sleeping. I was seriously having major anxiety. I finally texted the teen riding with the hubs to pull off at the next exit. Dad and I were going to switch places before I died of heart failure.

So remember how I packed at the last minute? And I rarely forget anything because I have a list?

Well we arrived in a short 12 hours to our hotel in Provo, Utah. The first job after brining everything in is to get Austin ready for bed: changed, medicated, etc.

I've had a little plastic box that had a green lid with a handle that a friend bought for me after Austin was born to keep some of his essentials in. I've taken that box with me religiously ever since: on vacations, to his hospice stays, to his hospital stays. It is my security blanket. It has his breathing inhalers, special skin creams, 2x2's, tape, tooth care, pulse ox, etc.

And it was not with us. It was sitting at home 9.5 hours ways at the end of my bed. Overwhelmed with the day's travel, all I could do at that point was sit down and stare into the room in panic!

But once the shock of not having it wore off, we realized that we could make do for a couple nights with improvising some of the supplies from other items we brought, and since he's been so healthy lung-wise for so long, we could probably get away without the inhalers for a couple nights until we could get the box mailed to us.

Fortunately I have a good friend looking out for our house while we are gone, who agreed at first to overnight the box, and then once we got our brains working again, retrieved the box for my brother to pick up since they weren't planning to leave until the next day and would literally be meeting us in Montana before any overnight mail could get to us.

So it all worked out. As usual. And we arrived at our destination in Montana after 12 more hours of travel (9.5 driving) the next day. The teen helped drive an hour here and there when I just couldn't keep my eyes open anymore even after 5 hour energy drinks. And we made it in once piece even with the usual friction between spouses who each think they know it all and need to be in control.

In fact, that might need to be my next story. Because I may need to justify in writing how I'm always right. Ha ha.