I had to explain to the solar guy, we'll call him Troy, mainly because his name is Troy - that my money was eaten up by things like bills and gas and that dang tailpipe that jumped out of the highway and bit my gas tank wide open a few weeks ago. I had to explain how the money I'd had reserved for the solar had been invested in other more pressing issues like food and toilet paper, insurance and underwear.
So then there I was, palatable explanation in the air and a payment plan worked out - working three jobs in order to tread the waters, and well, I decided to take a 2 day drive up to Pennsylvania because my life just isn't full enough of adventure and daring (or tempting God, my mom would say - I see it as Trust, but that's yet another post. . .). Actually, it began as a dual journey, a flybytheseatofmypants thing that included, or rather, circled around proving my friendship to someone. . .but knowing it probably wouldn't end up the way I thought it may. . .elusive, I know. . .
So, we set out around 7pm last Friday. I asked all the kids if they were up for 20+ hours in the car, ect. All in favor. We set out and made a stop to purchase White Fang and Call of the Wild on cd. I drank half caf/decafs - the first taste of caffeine in over 5 years.
First gas stop 130 miles in - checked the oil - dry. Ok God, sorry for tempting you, but I trust my heart is in the right place and even if I'm completely out of line at least I'll learn that lesson. Oil added (4 quarts) and car is fine. Civic with 206,000 miles. Fine.
Drive 9 hours north. Just before dawn I need a little more of that caffeine stuff. Kids are asleep, ok - i lock the doors and take the keys, park right in front of the truck stop doors. Get back in the car, which has a flat tire. Ok. Go back in and ask about the air pump and tire gauges - gauges are $4.99 for the cheap-o ones, so I pass and eyeball the air. It goes right in, and hisses right out. Blown tire. How did we not wreck, or lose steering ability? I know how, and God still isn't fed up.
I pull back into a good space and start pulling out the toy tire and the necessary tools - I can do this - I mean, I have a CDL. But it's cold, I'm shaking from the caffeine and Samson had wet himself. I refuse to accept the stupidity of the trip. Oh, and the friend I was sorta driving up to see and surprise, well, he didn't want to see us - neigh - he refused to let us swing by.
Enter angel number one - Vincent from upstate New York, a trucker of 25 years, chatted politely and changed the tire amid talk that sounded as if we were old friends. He asked if the kids were alright, but he also treated me as if I was completely capable of doing all this and more. He never made me feel stupid or lost, which I was, and am sometimes. My wallet had 3 ones and the rest twenties. I offered a twenty and he politely refused. It was then we exchanged names and said goodbye as if we'd see each other in church or the coffee shop or work soon. Bless Vincent.
The iPhone directed me to the nearest Walmart, a cheap fix. We drove 45 mph on the interstate and reached our destination-at-present in an hour. We cleaned up in the bathroom and perused the isles, wonderfully window-shopping with only Samson thinking we were actually going to purchase more then the juice and yogurt we needed.
Where now? Momentarily feeling completely idiotic and embarrassed, I turned again to the iPhone, which told me Hershey Pa was not too far away. We set off, sleep really calling my name loudly. It began raining - severely. We arrived in Hershey and it was nothing what I pictured - my version, a sleepy town with Wonka's factory looming in the horizon, quiet, secret, mystical. No. This place is built around millions of roller coasters and elegant Northern mansions. What?? The surreality overwhelms me even now. We change in the car, blankets hung for privacy. Parking is free, and the tour is free. We take the tour twice because we could, and because I wasn't paying $40 to see a 3D movie about making chocolate. Hershey employs mentally challenged people to hand out candy at the end of the tour. Our man dug into his ear and examined his finds before handing Mercury the candy. Priceless. Bless the mentally challenged Hershey employee.
Re-cooperating from the experience, we plot our next destination - Gettysburg, not far. It is a flood outside everywhere. This is the day north Carolina was hit with those deadly tornados. Wow. The kids are not into history at this point. I'm not sure why. . .
iPhone takes us into town, and we eat some pizza at a place I could have sworn was haunted, Samson prying me to ask the waitress. I do, she says it's not, they are disappointed but not convinced as I scare them in the bathroom. I call their dad, three hours away, but he cannot meet us because of circumstances. I'm really beat. Ironically questioning if I can afford a hotel room. Could I have afforded any of this?? This excursion brought to you by restlessness, doubt, distraction and procrastination. Why not get a $90 smoking room for the night in the middle of a place no one wants to be that it literally flooding?? We started to, then I thought we'd actually begin using some wisdom and common sense and mosey on down the highway to a cheaper spot. I had to sleep. I could sleep anywhere but the kids had been so incredibly good that they deserved a bed. Mercury and I toured the battle fields until dark while the boys slept, then we headed toward the highway. Actually, we were at the highway somehow and Mercury told me her disspointement of how she wanted to go to a train museum. I toyed with the idea. I didn't want to go back at all, but we had driven 9 hours north, why not? I turned back and we found it closed. We did get out and walked a bit, got soaked and were blessed with the warmth of our car again. . .then headed back to the highway towards a bed somewhere down there. . .
Turns out I couldn't find the road we were on earlier. We had to take a detour. I'm not sure I was supposed to be on the previous road at all. . .we meandered through the gorgeous country surrounding Gettysburg for an hour until well after dark and the rains were relentless. I finally called upon the iPhone again and as I did, with my four-way flashers on at a stop sign, our second angel pulled up beside me and basically told me to follow him - through 10 washed out bridges. He was in a Bronco. We were in a Civic. For anyone who doesn't know, Civics basically touch the ground and Broncos are a foot above it. Civics lose in floods. Our brakes got wet and went soggy, literally, with every river we crossed, but the Bronco saw us through, instinctively waiting for us after every pass. We got to a town and suddenly there were lights and traffic - a bridge was washed out, but they were directing us through anyway. It was a joke, as the last 10 we had crossed were multiple times worse then this one. I was amazed and awed and incredibly blessed. No luck there. Maybe some temptation (Mom) but we were seen through.
We made it to a highway and I was confident that it would empty into 81. Well. . .anyone know highway 15? Me neither. In the dark and squandering rain, I could tell we were in prosperous land. Canaan. Beautiful country from what I could tell, set off somewhere in PA and Maryland maybe, and VA, west of DC. I stopped at a coffee shop which I judged with the help of the surroundings, but going in at 11pm on Saturday night, I found 2 teenage boys singing their hearts out to the Beatles and Led Zepplin, some absolutely intriguing art on the walls talking about the segregation women felt in the Old Testament, whoa! Samson came in with me while the others slept, doors locked and me standing outside while my mocha was borne, watching intently as no one neared or even stirred outside. More surreality.
Deja Brew. That's not my words, that's the name of the place, somewhere in Maryland or Va, west of DC.
I decide to confer with the iPhone, and it tells me I'm close to 66. Way off route, but I know 66 well, so we truck on down and meet 81, my nearest friend. I stop when I feel I can't go anymore but the prices tell me I can go just a bit further. I stop at a place where my mom had met us years ago when I lived in NJ and met her halfway, I was pregnant and hadn't known it at the time and was very ill (with Samson). I knew it was cheap because my mom is, well - not cheap - but thrifty. The front desk man gave me a 35% discount. Bless that Days Inn front desk man.
We slept. I slept. We had breakfast and learned of the deadly tornados and said some prayers for those folks.
We got home.
It was beautiful.
Did we change the world, or even another person? Probably not. But we rallied our independence and also dependence on God's blessing enough to know even if I make some pretty radically stupid decisions, that if our hearts, my heart, is in the right place, pure and intentionally good, well, what will be will be. I learned so much. what a silly way to be taught, but it's just my style. If anything, it served to solidify the idea of taking off on a bus for 14 months with three kids and no money in order to help others as an idea of high standards and a blessed gift of wisdom. And knowing that my kids are cool with that sort of thing. We (my family) learn through some wild madness the gifts that are. . .
So good to read this story. Thanks, dear.
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