Two major updates from the events over the last week. First, and most importantly, I’m back home with my mom. Jason pulled out all the stops, well, maybe he stopped a couple of times, and got us home in a blur of four days. Jason drove the entirety of the 3,098 miles (63.5 hours) from Moore Haven, FL to Hermiston, OR. The days were beyond exhausting (physically and emotionally), and the nights were mostly restless. Jason drove long after the boys were asleep and was back on the road before breakfast. I was co-pilot. Which meant my job was to keep the driver happy in the form of snacks, caffeine, and conversation. For the most part, I was sitting in the passenger seat watching the miles tick off with my own snacks and beverages, praising Jason in his superb navigation skills. We hit all the weather: rain, snow, dust, wind, sunshine, etc. We hit it all, and Jason kept pushing through. He continued to show up for me day after day, being the incredible life partner that he is, keeping us pointed towards home.
Saturday evening, we made it to Pendleton, OR, my hometown and where my family is. I called my parents about an hour outside of town to see if they were up for visitors. Much to my surprise, a very alert and perky voice came on the phone. My mom! She sounded so good. She said they were waiting for us, and would see us soon. Then in another hour, I was hugging my mom and finally laying eyes on her. She’s weak, and very thin, but her mental strength was strong. My sister, Kristi, and her family were there as well, and we all sat around for a couple hours talking, catching up, and discussing the next steps for Mom. Now that I was in town, the load could be shared a bit more, and we had a plan of attack for Mom and Dad’s next couple of weeks. Kristi and I pressed Mom about getting the transplant journey started. I told her about all the private texts and messages I had received from family, friends, and daycare alumni volunteering to donate a kidney to her.
Mom said she had no idea there were so many people that cared. She said she didn't want to interrupt anyone's lives by needing a donor. And that about ripped me apart. My mom – the woman that selflessly sacrificed herself over and over again for our family and her daycare families – didn’t think she was worth it. I think she feels more like a burden than the blessing that she is. Maybe that’s on me. I don’t show my appreciation for her and Dad enough. I don’t tell her that I see her and everything she does for us. I don’t tell her that she is the cornerstone of this family. We all revolve around her, and if something were to happen to her, we would all fall out of orbit, lost without our star. The last couple of weeks have brought so much heartache, despair, tears, and helplessness. But it also brought some clarity. I am grateful I still have my mom. I am grateful I have a husband that sacrifices his plans and dreams for me and my family. I am grateful for three sisters that have banded together to make sure our parents are abundantly cared for in a deep, meaningful way. I am grateful that our lifestyle allows me to spend all day with my parents, being there every step of the way. I am grateful for Sharon, the dialysis social worker, that has been advocating for my mom even when my mom hesitated, doubting her worth. Our family will get through this. But we certainly haven’t been alone. There is a massive community around us that are leaning in and holding us up when we can’t walk on our own. My mom and dad are so cherished. I need to be more open about my need for them in my life. Our long-standing, hug-free family code is getting a facelift. Look out, fam, I’m coming in for more hugs!
Then there's the not-so-insignificant second update: the boat. Well, I guess that boat down in Martinique is ours, if we choose to accept it. We have until tomorrow to Accept/Reject the contract. Jason was present with our broker for the inspection and haul out, and the surveyor never pointed out any major defects, repairs, or concerns with the boat that we would consider “deal breakers”.
The official report still hasn’t come in though, and I really want to read through it before making a decision. I don’t know what we’re going to do. My heart is with my mom and staying close to her as we embark on this transplant process. But my heart also belongs to Jason and our dream of sailing. We have come so far in making this dream a reality, and it’s ours for the taking. I asked Jason if he felt confident going forward with the boat, and he said he thought he was – at least on paper and with what he saw, the boat is a sound choice. Now that we are back with family, the choice isn’t so easy. We desperately missed that connection. My mom’s health is still fragile with a lot of unknowns still needing answers. I broke down talking with Jason while we were on the road home. I’m just so sad. How can we leave family again? How do we pull ourselves away? How do I leave my mom? It just doesn’t feel right. I know it felt really good to be with my parents yesterday. Jason says we wouldn't be giving up on our dream, only putting it on hold. He said it doesn't matter where or what we're doing so long as we're in it together (queue more tears). Our decision was obvious, he said. We're sticking close to home for the foreseeable future. The transplant referral just happened yesterday when I called Sharon and told her we're moving forward. We could be here for upwards of six months or more seeing this through with my family. I don't know what this means for our living situation, but I know we're where we should be. Life has a strange way of shaking up your path. There's a bigger plan for us that doesn't include a Lagoon 440 down in Martinique, and we're open to whatever comes next. I mean, look what Jason accomplished in four days – he crossed a whole country in a 2000 Winnebago Brave named Wanda. Anything is possible.
So here's to my hero husband coming in clutch, to more hugs, and to finding peace in our answers.
P.S. I received a wonderful message from a friend after last week’s blog, reminding me to see the good in the midst of the awful. She recommended seeking out the adventure in the journey home. So I made a co-pilot’s log. Each hour, I recorded my current mood, thoughts, quips, or latest casualty of the road. I’ve attached the log below.
Co-Pilot’s Log
Day 1
Hour 1 – The troops are excited. RV Wanda is packed up and hits the road. All electronics are charged to max capacity for the upcoming journey. We depart from Moore Haven KOA, Florida.
Hour 2 & 3 – The troops are no longer excited. School time.
Hour 4 – Spirits are once again lifted in our home on wheels. Troops are fed and now immersed with devices.
Hour 5 – First stop for fuel. Snacks and drinks obtained. Inspection of rig finds an underneath storage compartment popped open somewhere in the last 200 miles. Impact drill and battery are marked as casualties of the incident.
Hour 6 – Impromptu dance party erupts as our Pilot Jason continues the drive down I-10.
Hour 7 – More driving. Are we there yet?
Hour 8 – I’m flagged down through the passenger window by a passing couple. The bike rack, with bikes, detached from our tow rig. After safely pulling over, bikes are not found and there is no turn around option. Three bikes, plus rack, are marked as casualties of the incident.
Hour 9 – Second fuel stop. Dinner is obtained from within the travel plaza. Back on the road.
Hour 10-12 – The troops are voicing their realizations of how long this trip is. Pilot and I attempt to remind said troops of the end goal. Excitement to see family and friends returns amongst the ranks. Florida/Alabama State line is crossed and celebrated with a stunning sunset.
Hour 13 & 14 – Slowly the troops settle into their beds. Biggest one is the last to fall.
Hour 15 – It’s dark and quiet. Pilot and I chat as the miles tick by. Alabama/Mississippi State line is crossed.
Hour 16 – Final stop for fuel, but not our final stop to rest. I cannot hang and retire to bed.
Hour 17 – Pilot will drive 35 more miles to final stop. However, upon exit from the fuel station and entering roadway, loud clanking is heard under Wanda. I’m awake again. Discovery of broken gas tank bracket is identified as the culprit of the noise. Bungee cord provides temporary fix.
Hour 18 – Pilot and I make it to parking lot in Vicksburg, Mississippi. Sleep comes quickly.
Day 1 Stats
Hours Driven: 18.5
Miles Covered: 884
States Traveled: Florida, Alabama, Mississippi
Miles Remaining: 2,214
Co-Pilot’s Log
Day 2
Hour 1 & 2 – After 3.5hrs sleep, Pilot is awake. Materials obtained to better correct the fuel tank fiasco of last night. Breakfast is also obtained. The troops begin to stir, but are moving slow. Breakfast is consumed. School begins.
Hour 3 – Pilot starts down I-20. I awaken. Mississippi/Louisiana State line is crossed.
Hour 4 & 5 – School is completed by the weary troops. Their spirits are lifted when I provide them with fully charged devices.
Hour 6 - Louisiana/Texas State line is crossed. Troops are still happy with screen time.
Hour 7 – First stop for fuel. Time to stretch our legs.
Hour 8-9 – More driving. More miles. I dish up sandwiches for the troops. Path through Dallas, TX is soul-crushing to Pilot with repeated re-routing, road construction, and lack of blinkers used.
Hour 10 – Pulled off to a “Picnic Area” for much needed physical activity for all. Except Sage – she found solid ground and reveled in the lack of movement. Tow Rig’s battery is dead. We spend extra time here to let the motor run.
Hour 11 & 12 – Pilot and I discuss course of action. We agree we’re another two days out from home. Sing-a-long initiated by Greatest Hits of the 2000’s playlist.
Hour 13 – Still in Texas. Why is it so big? Today’s goal is set: cross the entirety of Texas in one day. The troops continue to entertain themselves with reading, drawing, and juice boxes.
Hour 14 – Second re-fueling. Another fast food dinner acquired at stop. Back on the road.
Hour 15 – The troops have succumbed to restlessness. New Pokémon cards from the gas station did not appease them for long. Warped metal shoe rack is marked as a casualty of poor choices in wrestling moves.
Hour 16 & 17 – Finally, the end of Texas is reached. Texas/New Mexico State line crossed. Google Maps did us dirty sending us down a desolate, overgrown dead-end requiring disconnection of tow rig. Slight back tracking, now at our final stop for the night at Glenrio Welcome Center. Halfway home.
Day 2 Stats
Hours Driven: 17
Miles Covered: 787
States Traveled: Louisiana, Texas, New Mexico
Total Miles Covered: 1,671
Miles Remaining: 1,427
Co-Pilot’s Log
Day 3
Hour 1 – Pilot wakens, has us on the road by 6:30am. I wake up at the start of the engine. The exhaustion is taking its toll on Pilot and I. Extra vitamin C and caffeine is consumed.
Hour 2 – The troops are awake. There’s hesitation to start school. Knowing we’ll be home by the end of tomorrow brightens their moods.
Hour 3 – First fuel stop of the day. Sustenance is obtained in the form of soft pretzels, cinnamon rolls, and Lunchables. More caffeine, more miles.
Hour 3 & 4 – New Mexico roads are rough. More inclines result in slower progression. Wind has picked up, Pilot keeps us on the road with extra effort. The troops finish school for the week. Immediate uptick on the moods.
Hour 5 – Continuing through New Mexico on I-40. The topography is stunning. The troops continue to amaze with their positive outlook of being trapped in an RV day after day. Screen time helps.
Hour 6 – Wind continues to push Wanda’s beefy body around. A series of loud thuds high on driver’s side requires a pull off to investigate. No damage or issues found. Assumption is a bird attack. Fresh coat of duct tape is applied to torn fender while we’re stopped.
Hour 7 – Second fuel stop and back on the road with hot caffeine. Only a few miles in and the loud thuds are back. Must not be birds. Maybe under compartment opening and slamming shut? Nothing to see, we carry on into the dust bowl of New Mexico.
Hour 8 – More miles, higher winds, lower visibility. Gusts upwards of 50mph. Wanda is not built for this. More loud thuds. Pulled over to assess. Pilot climbs on Wanda's roof. It’s the radio antenna whipping so hard it’s knocking on the roof. We drive on, willing the wind to give us a reprieve.
Hour 9 - The wind is relentless. The rugged tundra is easy on the eyes. We're under 1,000 to destination. The troops cheer at the crossing of another state line. New Mexico/Colorado State line crossed.
Hour 10 - Still driving. The troops are relaxed. I'm given tours of many Minecraft builds. Colorado/Utah State line crossed.
Hour 11 & 12 - Utah's terrain is breathtaking. Sun has set. The troops have initiated a wrestling match, king-of-the-bed style. Waiting for inevitable hurt feelings or broken nose.
Hour 13 - Final fuel stop of the day. The troops have tucked themselves into bed early. We're all exhausted. Pilot sets his course down the road for final stop.
Hour 14 & 15 - Back on the road. Climbed a mountain and found snow. I miss the sunshine and warmth from which we came.
Hour 16 - Pilot achieves Rockstar Status navigating the mountain's descent in snow and torrential rainfall. Final destination reached for the night. Another parking lot. Emotionally and physically drained. Home feels so close.
Day 3 Stats
Hours Driven: 16
Miles Covered: 788
Total Miles Covered: 2,331
States Traveled: New Mexico, Colorado, Utah
Miles Remaining: 639
Co-Pilot’s Log
Day 4
Hour 1 - The crew slowly rises. Exhaustion is taking hold. Breakfast is consumed in the shape of Poptarts and caffeine.
Hour 2 - Driving begins. There's a buzz of excitement throughout Wanda. We'll be home before day's end. Daydreaming of warm showers and home's conveniences is in full swing.
Hour 3 - It's cold, wet, and dreary. Driving through rain is much easier in daylight. The troops are snuggled in blankets reading and creating Minecraft towns.
Hour 4 - first fuel stop. Sustenance and caffeine obtained. Utah is cold. Too cold. Time to get back on the road. Utah/Idaho State line crossed.
Hour 5 & 6 - Quick stop for a good windshield cleaning. "Are we there yet?" is on repeat. Time is racing, but miles are crawling. Weary travelers are ready to be home.
Hour 7 & 8- So many miles. No more rain or snow, but the wind is back. Google overestimates Wanda's ability to go the 80mph speed limit. Our ETA stretches.
Hour 9 - Hello, beautiful Oregon sunshine. Home is within our grasp. The troops watch a movie to keep their minds off the clock. Idaho/Oregon Stateline crossed.
Hour 10 - FINAL fuel stop. FINAL dinner from a gas station. FINAL caffeine purchase.
Hour 11 - Slow descent down the mountains. We're all tired. Pilot pushes through, carrying the weight of the mission on his shoulders behind the wheel. Enough with the wind already.
Hour 12-14 - I'm home!!! Family is worth it. Always.
Hour 15 - Back on the road for a quick 27 miles to our final stop at Pilot's parents' home. Our bodies are running on fumes. More family greets us. More appreciation felt for the journey. Family is everything.
Now for sleep. Lots of sleep.
Hours Driven: 12
Miles Covered: 639
Total Miles Covered: 3,098
States Traveled: Utah, Idaho, Oregon
Miles Remaining: 0
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