It’s been a weird month.
Not a bad month. Indeed, in a lot of ways, a really good month. I got to enjoy hanging out with the Best Brother Ever, both on our incredibly long and tedious drive to Florida and at the Airbnb he rented. I also got to spend quality time with my dad and stepmom while also being useful, which is always gratifying. Helping family is not transactional, but I like being able to give back to people who have given so much to me. Plus I saw so many Florida friends that I hadn’t seen since pre-pandemic. Lunch/dinner/fun & games in person are so much better than over text!
Still, it was a weird month. Everyone has pandemic stories, some of which felt pretty bleak. Sitting in the hospital with my dad was inevitably reminiscent of the last time I spent hours in the hospital, ten years ago with my mom. And I can’t, of course, be in Florida without thinking of my son. I have many more good memories of him than bad, but the bad ones hurt.
I also sold Serenity. It went reasonably smoothly: I never did advertise her on RVTrader, but I posted the fact of her sale to the Facebook Travato Owners and Wannabes group, and a single woman (with dog!) in Tampa reached out.
I took care of getting new batteries first, and also wound up reducing the price to cover the propane repair because it would have taken another month to get the part to fix it, as well as taking $$ off for a couple other minor problems. (The awning never worked & the electric step stopped working on the way to Florida). I was still satisfied and the buyer was satisfied, too, which is the best way for transactions like that to go.
It was still oddly hard. An incredibly kind friend, Frisbee, drove to Tampa to pick me up and bring me back to central Florida. When I’d buckled my seatbelt, he said, casually, in the way one does, “So how are you doing?”
I replied, “I think maybe I need to cry.”
Being a peak thoughtful human being, he immediately apologized for not having brought tissues, so I laughed instead. We started talking and I never did cry — the moment passed — but the feeling remained.
It’s not that I feel like selling the van was the wrong choice. I am completely delighted by the thought of not driving anywhere for a very long time. Today I’ll drive an hour so to get back to Mount Dora (borrowing a friend’s car) and tomorrow I’ll do the same in reverse, and that’ll be the last time I drive for probably weeks, maybe months. I love that thought. Love, love, love it. But still… a great adventure has come to an end and a time in my life is over and that means… well, some blend of nostalgia and mourning, I guess. It’s bittersweet, in the truest sense of the word.
But yesterday, I went to the Epcot Food & Wine Festival with C and Frisbee. We had a perfect day. The weather was remarkably tolerable for August in Florida, the lines were short, the food was great, and the company was outstanding. It was a day of Disney magic, filled with moments like getting the best possible seat on the Soaring ride and still making it out in time for the fireworks.
Along the way, we were eating griddled cheese with honey and pistachios in Greece, and for some reason I remembered the video I made eleven years ago, of a family trip to the Food & Wine Festival. I showed it to C & F while we were perched at a table overlooking the water, Epcot’s giant golf ball in the background. When I made that video, I had no idea what the next ten years would bring — none of the bad, of which there was plenty, but also none of the great, wonderful, amazing, and fun. It was a potent reminder that ten years from now, today will be just a distant memory. Even without Serenity, I expect that there will be plenty of good adventures before I get there.
Change has so many facets of emotions — sadness, excitement over thoughts of the potentials that may lay ahead, memories that will always remain with you. Here’s hoping all of your new tomorrows will bring you nothing but joy and fulfillment.
Thank you! I’ve fallen behind in my blog reading, but I know you’re going through some big changes yourself, so I hope the same for you! Or at least that there is plenty of joy and fulfillment along the way, because life is never all just joy. I hope in the face of hard times we can both decide to choose happiness!
And I’m not sure why my own website is refusing to log me in, but I’m not Anonymous, I’m Sarah 🙂
So very glad to read this. I’ve been thinking about you a great deal these past couple of weeks.
Long silence! Mostly it was the sprained wrist. I was busy, too, of course — lots of sociable time, not so many early mornings alone. But it hurt to type which is thoroughly un-motivating when it comes to writing. It’s mostly better now, as long as I don’t try to lift anything heavy or push anything. I’m sure you’ll be hearing from me more frequently now, especially because there will be puppy stories!
Best of luck in all you desire to have in your life~ a reason, a season… forever. I made a visit to my home, Minnesota and again tried to connect with my son and no word. Broken heart continues to plaque me.. ‘To the extent that I know my sorrow so too shall I know my joy.” That helps on many days .. but my child ~ not much. Thoughts and prayers for the wonderful life that you deserve to have.
Thank you so much! I’m sorry about your son: I know how much it hurts. (Really, an awful lot of people know how much it hurts, it’s just not something that gets talked about. At least in sharing we feel less alone.) I wish you the wonderful life you deserve, too!
Sarah – change is stressful even when it’s a result of our own choice. I know you will take care of yourself. And you’re right- 10 years from now will be a different kind of amazing.
It is the good way to think about it! I am sure the next ten years will have their sorrows and hard times, because that’s part of life, but there will be plenty of good, too! And it’s going to be fun to see how my life changes now. I’m looking forward to it!