Find The Loose Screw and Tighten It!

I am not the world's best traveler (which is gross understatement). I always thought I would be. My sister Betty always wanted a place to belong and roots that went down deep. She married a man so full of wanderlust he was rarely content to be in one place longer than two years. My sister Pat longed to see and go and do. She stayed. As I mentioned in my blog about the train ride, I love seeing new things but I'm not good at getting from point A to point B.

We used to take family vacations, which I never experienced as a child. The thought of going away for a week or 14 days became such an insurmountable mind picture of things to do I almost became incapacitated. Dave would make reservations at a resort (on an island). Therefore, I would know for six months to a year in advance we would be traveling, staying away from home, and returning.

Two months before the trip, I would begin to "pack on paper". Lists for each member of the family, food lists, activity lists, beverage lists, car comfort lists, filled reams of paper. We should  have had stock in Weyerhauser! One month before the trip, packing began. Yup! No grass grows under my feet. I would sort every one's "presentable" clothes as appropriate for a stay on an island up north in Minnesota. Some warm stuff, some cool stuff, some in between and layerable stuff was duly noted and mentally tagged for travel. Boxes began filling with grocery items for the cabin. Pillows and blankets for the trip were set aside to keep the youngsters comfortable in the car. Plans were made to fill thermos bottles with coffee, donuts were on the list of last minute items for the day we would leave, and easy to serve snacks were being withheld from family who wanted them NOW.

My family could handle all this until I began actually filling suitcases with clothing they still needed to wear. There were the suitcases in an array of neatness and organization to stun one's mind. The three of them would stand around those suitcases wondering if it was worth the wrath of Mom to nip out a shirt for tomorrow's wear. It usually wasn't worth it. By this time, they realized I had graduated from mere nut case to homicidal weirdo. We had to be ready and it would not be my fault if we were not.

In addition to freaking out over packing, I was worrying about car accidents (and clean underwear in case we were in one), drownings (island living means there's water near by), poison ivy, poison oak, lions, tigers and bears, oh my! I wasn't sleeping because I would wake knowing I had to search out and pack one more item. Our stuff to go was beginning to look like preparation for a major safari instead of a week or two away from home. Dave would do his best to try to get me to relax which only made me positive he knew of an impending disaster he wasn't telling me about.

He actually began tacking on an extra day at the beginning of our trip so we would spend one night in Duluth or Superior Wisconsin to relax me before we arrived at where we were supposed to relax. We would check in, bring from the car just what we needed for that night, and then commence relaxing. We would don bathing suits and head for the pool. Dave would play in the pool with the kids while I would sit poolside in a lounge chair with a glass of wine or a beer. Periodically, three heads with saucer sized eyes would appear at my side of the pool to see if Mom was returning to normal yet. Sometimes I was, sometimes I was not.

I'll reserve adventures at the island for another time. As Helen and Marc matured, their mother did not. They soon learned that packing their own suitcases was better than having Mom stow their clothing a month in advance. Dave also chose to pack for himself. That did not stop me from questioning regularly and often whether they had packed this or that or another thing. I consider myself blessed they didn't purchase a steamer trunk and put me in there with food and beverage until departure time.

I think it was some time in 1995 when we bought our conversion van. It was lovely. I even liked driving it (sometime I'll share how much I like large vehicles). Our vacations had dwindled to weekend trips which were easier on all concerned as well as more affordable in money and time. Marc was living away from home and Helen was teaching already. So, if I am correct about the date of purchase, then the following summer, Dave proposed a trip to Virginia Beach, Virginia.

It happened again. My brain went into hyper drive months ahead of time and I picked up every single thread of our lives to worry over. I started squirreling away stuff we would need on the trip. I kept suggesting other areas closer to home we could go. Dave had seen Virginia and wanted to share it with me but I was wound in a tight ball of fear. Did he not know Virginia is half our country away? Knowing I was making him angry with my unreasonable fears, I tried to hide them under my hat. My mistake was in not wearing a hat!

We stayed over night in Milan, Ohio home of Thomas Edison and close to some Abraham Lincoln memorials. In the morning, it was sunny and bright and we had our continental breakfast at the motel and were off! I am not good at geography and don't pretend to know east from west or Africa from South America. However, I knew we were nearing Roger's Rangers (Northwest Passage) country and the area Zane Grey wrote about in his Zane Family series with Betty Zane, Wetzel, and others. I knew the country was not supposed to be flat. I have a way of delivering my statements of confusion that shows I think someone is playing a very large practical joke and I am not happy about it.

"This is not Zane Grey country", I expounded. Dave wondered where that came from. Warily, he asked what I was talking about. "Jonathan Zane was being chased by Indians and he rode his horse off a bluff into a river and got away. No river, no bluffs, no woods, no" . . . well, you begin to get the picture. Dave tried to tell me he didn't know because he had never lived in the pages of Zane Grey books. Well! He thinks it is odd I don't know geography; I think it odd he does not know Zane Grey! I was disappointed and felt robbed. After pouting a bit, I began to take note of passing scenery again. Patience is a virtue and I should try to get me some! Bluffs, woods, rivers and I could see what Zane Grey saw. Settling in and watching intently, I was thrilled when we got to the Allegheny Mountains. I felt like we had arrived home. In younger days the feeling of wanting to get out and run would have been very strong. Now, I wanted to nest, build a cabin, get some seed and homestead.

Once we got to the outskirts of Washington DC it was time to panic again. We're not talking about nervousness or mild anxiety here; we're talking about full blown all out would like to scream but can't panic. We were driving in six lanes of traffic at speeds that were not like anything we had experienced. No quarter was given either. To not keep up with the speed was to be run off the road and we were a large vehicle! If that wasn't bad enough, it was pouring rain and nearing twilight. Dave was out of his element, Helen was wide awake and nervous, and I was white-knuckling the armrest on my door. I would have screamed, but I couldn't.

Once in our suite in Virginia Beach, it was time to get used to nothing being familiar or like Minnesota but so much fun to see. We were right on the ocean. The salt sea smell meant I wanted to sleep with the windows open. We were up a couple floors so it was possible to leave the balcony doors open. Touristy, trashy, fun, lovely, sunny and hot, cool and moist all describe Virginia Beach. Friday nights in Virginia Beach meant that the boardwalks and main roads were wall to wall people. The military came into town for a good time. Noise, laughter, traffic, and sometimes arguments and brawling could all be a part of Friday night. There was the gamut of places to be from ultra posh and luxurious dining to beer halls, tattoo parlors, and amusement arcades -- oh, yes, drive through liquor sales!

Away from Virginia Beach, were marine museums, botanical gardens, Jamestown, Yorktown, and Colonial Williamsburg which is right next to William and Mary College. All my favorite reading in areas to see and visit and touch. The day we went to the botanical gardens, I was not feeling well. All the anxiety, strange water and food had taken its toll. We wandered the gardens with me seeking every satellite they set out. When we got to the Colonial herb garden, I announced they could just leave me there to die. No, I wasn't being dramatic; not me. Just then a "train" came. They have trams or cars without rails that tour the garden. I have no other memory of being so grateful to see transportation. There is also a boat tour available and you can get out to see whatever you wish and then catch the next cars or boat and go again. I was so grateful to not have to become a permanent part of the Colonial herb garden.

We made a trip into North Carolina to see Cape Hatteras Light House. This was before they moved it half a mile inland to keep it from toppling into the ocean. I have a sea shell I dug out of the sand. I keep it as a paperweight. For a reason I can't name, Bodie Light House (pronounced body)  became my favorite. Some of it was the setting near a stand of Loblolly pines but I just fell in love with it. North Caroline doesn't know it, but it is my lighthouse.

Our trip also included a drive to Assateague and Chincoteague where Helen was thrilled to be where her Marguerite Henry stories had taken her imagination as a child. We found tracks of wild horses during our roaming there. Helen was so happy to find those tracks. She looked hard for just a glimpse of a horse. Leaving to go back to Chincoteague, Dave saw a flash of something. He said, "Is that a horse?" Helen said, "I think so; yes!" Dave backed the van until there was a spot to pull off the road. The van had not yet stopped when Helen was leaving the door and on the run. We bailed out and ran after her telling her to be careful. She was out of sight. Around a bend and we found Helen, tears running down her cheeks as she stared at five or six wild horses staring back at her. The trip was successful.

Prior to heading home, we planned a visit to Washington DC. We spent the night in Maryland and planned to take the Metro to DC and spend the day. That is not much time for such a place, but it was all we had. Once again, fear controlled me. I woke announcing we did not really have to go into DC for me. I tried over and over to tell Dave I didn't need to see our nation's capitol. That kind of fear creates a sensation of being trapped inside a pillar, or maybe a statue of myself, where I can see out, but people don't seem to be able to see me. Dave was making no connection to the desperate need I was feeling to just resume our trip toward home. Home where I understood and knew the places around me.

When we got to the Metro, I started insisting we had to have a plan for getting back together if we were separated from one another. Staring out through the eye-holes in my encasing statue, I begged for a plan. Helen could see I was beginning to lose control so she tried to help by handing me a schedule for the metro showing all it's stops on a map. I clutched the map and wandered around muttering to myself about needing to know how to get back together. When I am terrified I walk in fast circles and talk to myself (no one else wants to listen).You know, as I write this, I can feel the terror and the desire to cry.
This became a day when Dave and Helen wished they could unscrew the top of my head and tweak the short circuited spots in my brain! On the Metro I sat with my map held approximately two inches from the end of my nose, I soundlessly repeated every station called out on the speaker and tried to breathe. We emerged from the underground and Dave kept trying to show me the Capitol. I was still too far behind the trees to see it. All I could see was dead brown grass, and feel the searing 95 degree heat. I bellowed! (Remember earlier I mentioned I voice my confusion in odd ways?) Well I bellowed, "Where's the Mall?" Did you ever hear the old lady in the commercial who wanted to know where the beef was in her sandwich? You got it. I sounded just like her

Dave informed me I was standing on the Mall. I still could not see the Capitol but I had turned to my left and did see the Washington Monument. Whatever little string was holding my brain in check snapped. I was off to see the Washington Monument. Even then I was overweight. I have never handled extreme heat well. But at a speed amazing for a "chubby" lady, I mounted the hill holding the Washington Monument. I left Dave and Helen in the dust! We arrived and they were able to get me to rest on a bench for a moment. We went inside but not up to the top. We bought a postcard of 5 living presidents -- hmmmm Bush Sr, Carter, Regan, Nixon, Ford. I still have the card but I named them without looking. We roamed the outside of the monument and then I saw it.

I gazed down and saw the reflecting pool and at the end of that the Lincoln Memorial. I could see the form of Lincoln inside about the same size it is on the back of a penny. Without preamble I was off. It was hot, humid, and that is not a short walk. I was not walking in a straight line. I was zig-zagging my way along the reflecting pool and sights on the side. In addition to making some sort of marathon out of this, I was now crying. I was on my way to see the Lincoln Memorial! When I was on site, I climbed those stairs and stood at the feet of Abraham Lincoln. The memorial was under repair so there were scaffolds and taped off areas but that was OK. It could not detract from my being able to see that statue.

You might think that walking fast in extreme heat and being overweight as well as crying until my sinus were well plugged would cause a slow down. Not so. A short-circuited brain can do amazing things. Dave was not sure he wanted to see the Viet Nam Memorial. I suggested he could sit and relax and I would meet him back at the bench when I had gone. Helen also wanted to see it. Notice I had become Mrs. Intrepid Indiana Jones from Mrs. Toad in the Hole Won't Go. Dave walked to where there was a book listing those who served and fell or went missing in Viet Nam. Helen and I wandered to the wall giving him some privacy. He also came to the wall and I believe he found the names of people he had known. The statue that honored the men and the women who served at that time is very sharp in my memory. Dave and I survived the separation of his serving there and the after years of shame inflicted on those who had served. This had been our time. We lived through it, and we are proud of the men and women who served, died, disappeared, and were changed forever by it.

Once away from the memorial for Viet Nam Veterans, I reminded Dave he wanted to see the Jefferson Memorial which was right across the bridge and why didn't we go do that now as we still had time before lunch and it should be just this way if we just got going right away. At that point, I heard Helen scream, "Dad! Make her stop before she kills us!" I was on my way so Dave had to scramble to keep up. He grabbed my arm, and actually put his arm around my shoulders to bring me to a stop. Through clenched teeth, they informed me there were bus tours and we were taking one. We saw Union Station, the DAR (Daughters of the American Revolution) building, the Red Castle, the Capitol, the White House, and we had lunch at the Smithsonian Aviation building.

My memories of Washington DC are sharp and clear for some places. I remember clearly the dead looking Mall. I remember the Lincoln Memorial both far and near. I remember the Viet Nam Memorial. The rest of the day is like watching a slide show at super high speed. I don't remember it as a walk through history nor do I remember the marathon race to see all of DC in half an hour. To hear Dave and Helen tell it, all their health issues today are related to running through our Nation's Capitol in time to catch the return Metro to Maryland. I only know I don't remember a thing about the ride back to our motel, nor the dinner we might have eaten there (did we eat?), nor the night's sleep.

The next night we spent in Lancaster, Pennsylvania. We had wanted to go through Gettysburg, see Johnstown where I had read about the flood that destroyed nearly the whole town in the 1800's. At the last minute, we changed our minds and went to Lancaster to sample some Amish food and see quilts. Had we kept to our original plan, we would have been stuck for several days as torrential rains, caused flooding and all travel in and out in that area was delayed for nearly four days.

As much as I wanted to go home, I was sorry to leave the Alleghenies and Zane Grey country behind. I realized what should have been engraved on my mind's eye as thrills, had come close to being spoiled by fear that could have stolen everything from all three of us; we might not have shared that trip together.

In the Bible it is stated often that those who walked most closely with God still felt fear, trembling, anxiety, terror. God says trust Him and don't be anxious about anything. We are human. We speak of "unreasonable" fear. If fear was reasonable it would not be so debilitating. It is only when we remember to call out to God in our fear that we can manage it. Only, it is not we who manage it but God. The Holy Spirit fills the whole inside of us that Satan is trying to paralyze with fear. When we remember to call out to God, He is there to calm and to comfort and to lead through what is frightening us. Philippians 4:6 and 7 says it all.