Grief Happens!

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.

 

Magnolia RV Resort

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.

 

The Creek Bed

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.

The Lab and Dig

Quincy

The Columbian Mammoth

Wanda

Portrait of Wanda

A Prehistoric Camel

A Mammoth Family Group

The Matriarch

A Beautiful Facility

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.

 

Out of camber

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?

 

On Friday, the weather started cloudy with the threat of rain.  I spent the morning writing. But after lunch, the weather began to clear, and we ventured into Waco to see the Dr Pepper Museum. This old building sits on Fifth Street and was the site of the first Dr Pepper plant. The drink grew out of the health craze of the 19th Century, where Pharmacists used carbonated water and flavorings to create healthy drinks, one step removed from snake oil. Like Pepsi and Coca-Cola, Dr Pepper began as a healthy alternative to alcohol and promised good health and happiness. But marketing people soon took over the “fizzy water” water drinks, and fortunes were made. The Museum at Dr Pepper is more about marketing and sales than the drink itself. And, frankly, this is as it should be. The brand is more important than the product itself, and the story of Dr Pepper and other brands is a tribute to salesmanship and advertising.  Here are a few pictures from the Museum.

The Artesian Well used until 1927

One of many displays of international marketing

Who remembers Hot Dr Pepper?

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