Disjointed thoughts from a weary traveler

We arrived in the mountains of North Carolina on Sunday night, after an all day drive from Washington DC. We will stay put at Charley's mom's through November. We are approaching 7 weeks on the road and have literally been from sea to shining sea. I've not written, mostly because my battery is fried on my laptop but also, because it feels like work, and since most of this trip truly is work, I'm not interested in adding more.

It is good. It is hard. This good/hard has become a common theme for us.

We have been to and through, Rawlins, Wy, Boise, ID, Bend, OR, Portland, OR, Cape Lookout State Park, OR, Tilamook, OR, Astoria, OR, Seattle, WA, Spokane, WA, Coeur d'Alene, ID, Missoula, MT, Billings, MT, Sturgis, SD, Wall, SD, Sioux Falls, SD (Yes, South Dakota is LONGGGGG) St. Paul, MN, Wisconsin Dells, WI, Milwaukee, WI, Fox Lake, IL, Glen Ellyn, IL, Chicago, IL, Howe, IN, Mercer, IN, Landingville, PA, Maplewood, NJ, NYC, DC, Ashville, NC. Phew.

We have battled freezing pipes, we have been totally freaked out, we have gotten stuck, we have had "issues" with our dog, we have flipped out on our kids, we have had "the" flu, we have had major repair work done.

We have seen awe inspiring views, we have seen National treasures, we have been proud of our kids, our selves and our country. We have eaten the world's biggest cinnamon roll, we have unplugged from tv and turned up the music, we have laughed a lot. We have cried a lot. We are the essence of spontaneity. Good and bad.

We have seen friends that we adore and miss and talk about visiting, but never do. We have sat with them and cried with them over Tuesday's fate. We have watched our combined children play and become fast friends. We all notice the obvious void. Some mention it. Some don't. But, we all feel it.

Our boys are so great at including Piper in their play. They are so protective. But, there is a painful, underlying competition for her affection. Spencer feels this the strongest because "Tuesday was his and Piper is Axel's". It's kind of true and it crushes me. I'm pissed that after all the suffering we had to witness with Tuesday, here we are, still watching our children suffer.

"Is this our home?"

"Do we have a home?"

"Is Otto dead?" (after a 4 day stay at the dog kennel)

"Maybe we can have another baby and name her Tuesday."

"Do we still get to have Christmas?"

Their poor, sweet minds. How are they supposed to get any of this when I can't even wrap my mind around it. I still don't know if this is the right thing to be be doing. There has been a lot of yelling. But, there was a lot of yelling at home too. It mostly feels right, but sometimes it feels wrong. Mostly when It's raining and I'm about to get my period. But it always feels bad when it's raining or I'm about to get my period. It's not the RV's fault.

Despite all that, the kids are really in a groove with one another right now. It's awesome to watch their imaginations in full bloom. They have built a fort in every state, both in the RV and out. They are growing before our eyes. (Something that we missed all together last year) We are growing. There are bound to be some pains. Charley and I are not in our groove. This makes me sad. We will figure it out. We always do.

Our last stretch, through Roanoke, VA, has set me in a bad place. The last time I drove those roads, I was on a trip by myself with two, fat, healthy baby girls. Life was good.

It's still good, right?

Despite it all, life is still good.

www.thewhitts.com

p.s. While we have been gone, children are continuing to battle, relapse, and die. What are YOU going to do about it?

www.whatchagonnado.org

Miles for Tuesday

http://cbs4denver.com/local/marathon.Tuesday.cancer.2.1251342.html
video is on the right hand side of the screen

Moving on, or forward, or something like that.

Missoula, MT

Emotions have been running high the past few days. High, and deep and wide and seeping out the seams and running over the top. Mostly mine, but of course that makes everyone else on edge too. I don't know how to get past it either. Yes, I know all of the obvious things, but I don't know how get out of this place. (no, not the RV) Yes, baby steps, day by day, blah, blah, blah. I know it's cyclical. It will most likely be a bit better tomorrow. I can't believe how powerful missing someone can be. No need to explain any thoughts on celebrating a twin birthday when one of your twins has died. You can come up with all of those painful scenarios on your own.

We've just left Washington state, where we stayed in Seattle for a couple days and then on to Spokane for a couple more. We spent my birthday morning at Pike Pace where Charley indulged me with pastries and coffee and flowers. We spent Piper and Tuesday's birthday running on bridges around Spokane. My anxiety levels must be insane right now because I was sure that the kids were going to jump every time I turned my head. I hate feeling like that. I just want to let them run on the stupid bridge with out yelling 'be careful' every 4 steps. I liked living in that fantasy world where children didn't die. But since we don't live in that world, and since children do die, we went to the Sacred Heart Children's Hospital and left money, our mission, and Tuesday's story, with a sweet nurse named Lindsey, for another high risk, Neuroblastoma family. If you happen to be that family and you happen to come across this post, know that we are holding you close and praying for the strength to keep on. The kids were bummed that they had to wait in the hall because of flu season. I think they were looking forward to meeting someone and being the expert. Poor, sweet Piper asked if Tuesday was there. It almost killed me.

Yesterday was Couer d'Alene, ID. It is gorgeous. We got a ticket for not having a trailer on the RV. (whatever) I met a woman who lost her 16 year old son, years ago, in a canoe accident. It was cold. I cried a lot. We went to a toy store. I cried a lot. That's about all I remember. At the end of the day, I needed to move the car to this big, empty parking lot. When I got out of the car, I saw this.

Thank you for the reminder. I'm trying.

October 11

Happy Birthday. That's all I've got.

birthday wish

Today is my birthday. I tell you this because I woke up with two wishes; one, to not listen to Eye of the Tiger even one single time today, and two, that you will light a candle for Tuesday, tomorrow, on her birthday, and email me the picture.

*picture me closing my eyes and making my wish.

You gots the poison, I gots the remedy.

Oregon

On the 101 from Cape Lookout State Park to Astoria.

I could stop now-stay in Oregon for a good while. Bend was our first stop and we pulled in to town after dark and after 10 plus hours on the road. Woke up, and love at first sight. Definitely #1 on our "Hell yeah, I'd move here!" list. Next stop was Portland, followed by the coast, which are currently tied for second place. Oregon

seems to be fitting us quite nicely. Conversely, #1 on the "I hope to never be forced to live here" list is Rawlins, Wy, where we spent our first night at the KOA by the prison.

But let's talk about Portland. I love Portland.

Since we couldn't fit the RV and tow car down the streets of the funky Hawthorne neighborhood where Charley's sister Wintry, bother-in-law Paul, and not-so-wee-anymore, cousin Aoife (eee-fa) live, we parked the Rig south of town and stayed with them for a few days. (Like how I throw the word 'Rig' around like that? I'm a professional now.) Hawthorne neighborhood was a great break from sitting for miles and miles and hours as you can walk everywhere you want to go, and where you want to go, is to food shacks. It is littered with these, on the sidewalk, yummy, ethnic food shacks. This works out beautifully for those of us with small children that don't want to sit still at a restaurant and who love yummy, ethnic food. *disclaimer: These are most likely not referred to as "food shacks" by those in the know.

The kids had a ball playing with their cousin at Aunt Winnie's, at home, Tumbleweeds Playschool, and playing some bean bag game with Uncle Paul, that, like it or not, was called Corn Hole.

From there we packed up and all of us headed to the coast, Cape Lookout State Park to be exact, where Paul led a 3 day kayak trip. On day two, while Charley worked from his office-a-go-go, Paul led me and the boys on a sea kayak outing that involved passing through a family of harbor seals, huge flocks of pelicans, and a stop to hunt for sand dollars. It was spectacular. It's useless for me to even try and explain. For a land locked girl, I feel very at home near the water.

This is what I needed.

Last night, Charley and I were the only two, on a huge beach, at low tide, under the harvest moon, and I felt that tininess that always resets me. That, in your face, reminder for me that I will never figure this cancer mess out because I'm not designed to figure it out. I am tiny. I am just another tiny, yet invaluable, part of this beautiful and painful world and it is ok to let go and be pulled by the tide. I like that. It is freeing.

This trip is freeing. It is freeing to walk to the video store in some oversized, unflattering outfit while my clothes are in the wash and not care who sees me and thinks, Oh God, she must be a mess, I saw her at the video store and you should have seen her....

It's freeing to come and go as we please. To not even know where we are going next, but knowing that we are going there together. It's freeing. It's freeing to be able to talk about Tuesday to the guy at the running store in Bend and know that is one more person that heard the word Neuroblastoma, and yet, know that I won't have to see him again; to pass him on the street, knowing that he's thinking, "There's that lady who's kid died."

It's freeing to still be in pajama's at 10 in the morning, even thought you are in one of the most spectacular places on earth, because that is what you feel like doing and no one has to be anywhere at any time. Time is no longer a matter of life and death.

She get's her chemo in 7 minutes.

We have to flush her lines in an hour.

We need to be to be at radiation oncology by 8 am.

It's freeing.

We can just be.

Right now I'm good with that.

New Beginnings

It's official. We live in a motor home. I know it's only been for 23 hours, but after a night at the KOA in Rawlins, WY, I feel I can claim it. The kids are living up to the old 'give em an inch, they'll take a mile' thing. Pumping their arms at every Semi we pass, building forts, (yes, in the RV) and using the fridge and toilet with higher than average frequency. (rules?) The dog is eating string cheese and turkey, since we forgot his food. We are eating snacks, since I forgot the crock pot and some key ingredients for actual meal making. Heading to Walmart. (I know, I know) But such is the life of the RV'r, or so I'm told.

Music is good. Scenery is not as good, but getting better. Company is perfect.

Well, almost.

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When I get tired of knitting baby doll panties, I'm going to try and spiff this blog up. Who knows what you might find.