We have arrived in Waco for our last non-family stop for 2024.
And, I confess, I am sad to be leaving our wandering behind us for the winter.
Yes, I am tired. Travel demands a lot of energy, and my mind, body, and soul
are weary of the wear and tear caused by the road. I look forward to seeing
family and friends in San Marcos, College Station, and the Gulf Coast. And I
definitely need a break. But this does not mean that I will not miss the road.
I will miss the road and grieve its loss until we begin again next March.
My decade as a Hospice Chaplain taught me that grief always happens
when we experience a loss, large or small. The level of the grief is usually
proportional to the degree of loss. My grieving over the road cannot compare to
the loss of a spouse or other significant person in our life. However, it is
grief, nonetheless, and deserves to be acknowledged as grief. Grief happens! Unfortunately,
we often ignore it at our peril, especially when it is a lower-level loss. However,
regardless of its severity, we can allow ourselves to go through it until we
learn to live with it! Grief happens, and I am my grieving the end of our 2024 journey.
Monday was a rainy day in Mt Pleasant. We spent it doing chores;
laundry, cleaning up Koko, and preparing for the drive on Tuesday. We grabbed
lunch at a Mexican restaurant where I enjoyed Mole, one of my favorite Texas
tastes. It reminded me of what awaited us over the winter while I grieved what
we were leaving behind in the Midwest. We all need a little TLC when grief
creeps into our lives. A special treat, especially one that helps us look
forward, allows us to keep grief in its place without consuming our every
waking thought.
On Tuesday, we headed down I 30 and went through Athens on our way
to Waco for a week. This route allowed us to avoid the Dallas traffic, the same
thing we did on our way North last Spring. TLC means doing what we can to
reduce stress on our tender souls when grieving. I did not want to negotiate I
30 to I35 in Downtown Dallas. Unfortunately, our GPS routes did not know about
the new bypass around Corsicana. One wanted us to turn on a road that was no
longer there, and the other had trouble identifying our turns. This meant I had
to guess, which can be very stressful in a vehicle that cannot go in reverse
and needs space for wide turns that precludes most U-turns. The short rendition
of the story is that we drove from Corsicana to Waco via Mexia. (This is not
the express route.) My confusion and anger were exacerbated by my sadness over
leaving the road. Fortunately, I recognized this as grief and could name it for
what it was. I allowed myself to grieve once again and kept on track for Waco.
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Magnolia RV Resort
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We stayed at the Magnolia RV Resort in Lacy-Lakeview on the
Northside of Waco. This large RV Resort caters to travelers and seasonal folks
alike. Unfortunately, the owners felt it necessary to display their political
leanings with huge flags and signs around the swimming pool. I looked at the
display as if it was a sign that we were back in Texas and let go of the moment.
When we recognize our grief, we have much more control over how we respond to
the world around us. If I had ignored my grief, I would likely have spoken to
the staff expressing my disappointment in their lack of hospitality. But I was
sad and did not need to allow that sadness to trigger an inappropriate or
unkind response toward someone else.
Wednesday dawned with sunshine and comfortable temperatures. We
took advantage of the nice weather and set out for lunch and a little
sight-seeing. We ate at Papa Bears Restaurant. It seems every business in Waco must
include the word bear in their name. Marlene had a Chicken Fried Steak, one of
her favorite Texas comfort foods. I had a Brisket Stuffed Baked Potato, a real
treat on my diet. We both could afford to splurge on lunch because we had some
swordfish defrosting back at Koko that I would grill for supper. (This was a
bit more TLC.) After lunch, we drove to the Waco Mammoth National Monument.
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The Creek Bed
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The Waco Mammoth National Monument was set aside as a National
Monument in 2015 by President Obama after bills to make the designation died
twice in both the House and the Senate. The site was discovered by two
teenagers trespassing on a local farmer's land. They found a large round bone
protruding from the ground beside a creek. They thought it might be a skull
from a Native Burial Ground. They took it to Baylor where it was identified as
the head of a Mammoth femur. They were told that Columbian Mammoth bones are
relatively common in Central Texas. (My Dad brought me a piece of a mammoth
tusk he dug up in a field.) Baylor was not interested until they mentioned that
they also saw other bones. Upon investigation, a team of paleontologists
discovered 24 separate mammoths buried in the caliche along the creek bed.
These animals had died from frequent droughts and washed into the creek over
several thousand years of periodic flash floods. These two forces are still
part of life in Central Texas. The Baylor University and the City of Waco
received the site from the landowner. They built a lab over the largest cache
of bones. After 20 years of battling with Congress, the site was finally
protected. It offers insight into these huge creatures and the smaller mammals
entombed with them. Here are a few pictures from our afternoon at the Monument.
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The Lab and Dig
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| Quincy |
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The Columbian Mammoth
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| Wanda |
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Portrait of Wanda
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A Prehistoric Camel
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A Mammoth Family Group
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The Matriarch
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A Beautiful Facility
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When we got back to Koko, I grilled the swordfish. Marlene made a
spinach salad, and we feasted on a very interesting day. While I always enjoy
exploring, Wednesday was made even better against the backdrop of my grief. It felt
good to get out and experience the world beyond my sadness. Grief begets
“woulda’, coulda’, shoulda’” and these can become walls that hide the world beyond.
A nice meal spent with someone you care about, reminiscing over a day well
spent was just what I needed.
The clouds and rain returned on Thursday. Normally, I would be
tempted to sit inside and stew over my loss. But, bolstered by our good day on
Wednesday, I looked ahead, through the sadness, to envision a productive day.
TLC is cumulative. While not every day will be better than the last when the
clouds return, our previous days can offer us a little resolve to help get us through
the next grief storm as best we can. This is precisely what we did with our
rainy Thursday.
I woke up and declared, to myself, that Thursday would be a Chill
and Chores day. I spent some time getting my head around the theme for this
blog. Then I made a mental list of things to accomplish with the day. The first
was our door on Koko. If you follow me on FB, you will likely have seen this
already, but it bears some repeating. Our main exterior door on Koko has been a
pain from the beginning. It has never closed well. Sometimes we would have to
slam it so hard I worried about the glass in the door. We had to use the
deadbolt to keep it closed. I had taken the door apart several times, filed out
the deadbolt hole, and removed the screen door more than once all to no avail.
Mobile techs and RV service centers have looked at it and shrugged it off. So,
I went back to school on RV maintenance and consulted the highest authority I
know, the Internet.
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Out of camber
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As I wandered around on Google, I discovered a phrase, “Door
Camber.” I knew wheels had a camber adjustment, but I had never heard of door
camber. More googling revealed that all RV Doors require a certain amount of
bowing out, or camber, at the latch to allow the top and bottom to seal against
the weather stripping. I then discovered that this camber may need adjusting if
the door leaks or "IT DOES NOT LATCH.” Bingo!!! I borrowed a couple of
pieces of 1 X 1 wood, applied some pressure, and adjusted the camber on the
door. Five years of door slamming was eliminated. Serendipitously, a new clear
piece for the screen door arrived, and I replaced it as well. I must claim the
opportunities when I get them. Two items were checked off and two to go. Completing
each one gave me the energy I needed to tackle the next. Despite the lingering
sadness over our leaving the road for a while, I was able to do everything that
needed doing and felt good about the day! Clouds and rain, be damned! Sometimes
I must get off my butt and deal with the everyday stuff and let tomorrow take
care of itself. (Hmmm, I may have preached that somewhere before?
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The Artesian Well used until 1927
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One of many displays of international marketing
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Who remembers Hot Dr Pepper?
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After our museum tour, we stopped for a Whataburger. This iconic
Texas food is a fitting way to celebrate our return to our birth state. Like Dr
Pepper and the Chicken Fried Steak, it is a taste of Texas. Frankly,
while the burger is good, the fries and Whataburger ketchup bring the flavors
home for me. Yes, Friday was a very good day.
Grief is a multisensory experience. I feel it in all kinds of
ways. Something as simple as a soft drink, burger, and fries can help me
withstand my sadness. I may not be able to “See the USA,” but at least I can
enjoy a little respite with a comfortable and familiar meal. Coping with grief
is also a multisensory experience.
Yes, I am still grieving, but I can feel its grip lessening a
little on most days. There are times ahead when I know I will miss the
wandering and grief will return. I will miss discovering new places and meeting
new challenges along the way. I know that I will grow weary of waking up in the
same place every morning and will become eager to get back on the road. Such is
the way of grief. But I cannot do anything about it other than wait it out,
coping the best I can. All I can do is trust that this will be enough to get me
through until next March when we set our sights on the Pacific Northwest.
Grief happens. But this does not mean you should sit and stew in
your sadness. Make the most of the day you have, with whatever energy you can
find. Somedays this may mean making toast for breakfast and then returning to
bed for a nap. Other days may involve weeding that front flower bed or going to
the grocery store. Regardless, claim what your day offers, and look ahead with
whatever hope and energy you can muster. Today and tomorrow await us all.
Travel well, my friends.
Bob
