We made it back from West Virginia safe and sound.
Ah hah!! And I bet some of you didn’t even know we left. That’s o.k. I’m not totally sure that I knew it. Other than the fact that I was driving . . . (no, I’ve made that trip on my own with all the kids, except Caleb of course . .) it all seemed so familiar. Dan liked to travel, the kids liked to travel, I certainly didn’t mind, although it could be a whole ‘nother ball game by myself, and so we traveled. Driving those West Virginia roads still felt like home. In fact, I was still trying to stop like I was driving the little 8 passenger mini-van we used to own. That was interesting. Once I figured out that I needed to remember that I was driving a bigger vehicle, then things settled down.
I took my nanny and her sister, so I had plenty of help. We stayed with friends for part of the trip and some other friends put us up in a hotel for the rest of the trip. We got to visit a lot of our church family, I spent some time with my MOPs friends, and we made a few visits to some key locations-like our old house and the VA park where we spent a lot of time.
It was a rough trip. I cried at the drop of a hat the first night we were at church (Wednesday). I could just see Dan standing there in the aisle talking to someone, sitting next to me in the pew, teaching Children’s church, playing with a kid, maneuvering the wagon through the door, etc, etc. Other than our house and maybe Wal-mart, church was probably where we spent the most time together (he did spend a lot of time at work =). Our house had been torn down (no surprise there), so church was the next logical place for grieving.
It was also a good trip. We connected again with many of our friends and Christian family. We chatted and played, talked about the past and the future, laughed and cried, and took another step in the healing process.
I’m glad we went.