Tag: daughter

adventure

Hike Inn

2chicksandapen

How far will you go to stay somewhere truly unique?

What if fitness is part of the admission fee? Could you pay it? Would you?

The Len Foote Hike Inn is one of 9 backcountry inns in the US. It’s only reachable (for guests) by a 5 mile hike near the start of the Appalachian Trail. After having it on my adventure list for years, my youngest daughter and I finally made the trek earlier this spring.

How remote is the Hike Inn? It’s a little bit of roughing it, but not too bad. You have a room with mattresses, clean sheets and blankets. Two hot meals are prepared for you each day, served family style, with an option for a third trail lunch. There are dorm-style shared hot showers and composting toilets that don’t smell bad (but do come with a draft!) There are rocking chairs, board games, and books about the outdoors galore. There is peace.

When you are at the Inn, you’re encouraged to stay off of your phone, aside from taking photos. There is cell service (all the way up the trail, too!) But really, the atmosphere invites you to connect with nature and other people.

My daughter brought up fond memories of going to camp as we sat on our bunk beds. When the dinner bell rang, we joined the long table and sat next to two volunteers. An older couple, they served food, cleared plates, and gregariously talked about their commitment to volunteering at the Inn. They come up for a weekend every few months. For a couple of hours of work, you get a free stay at the Inn and a shirt.

The stay with my daughter was memorable. Relaxing. She beat me at board games. She paced me up the trail. We talked and talked and talked some more. It may have been the most we’ve talked since my days of driving her to high school or traveling together for club lacrosse. It’s amazing what long stretches of uninterrupted time together can do. The words and insights just keep spilling out. It turned out to be a rainy and cold weekend, so the sad part was missing the sunrise. Something to look forward to next time.

It didn’t take me long to join the volunteer corps at the Inn. It took many months to actually find a day when my schedule allowed me to go. Sadly, I didn’t have my girl along this time. She was already away at college. Although still beautiful, the hike is much longer when you do it alone! Yes, of course it is the same length, but I missed her company. My room was bigger and had a fan (which was desperately needed on the hot weekend I chose.) I also had power in my room and my own bathroom and shower, which was awesome.

I got a shirt and the chance to work with the cook and other employees. This turned out to be more fun than I thought it might. Setting tables, serving food, doing dishes, putting things away…after years in a restaurant, it all felt easy and not taxing. Unlike the weekend with my daughter, there were no children this weekend at the Inn. There was one group of 12 moms on a girls weekend, then a few other smaller groups of friends. It was quite easy and relaxing.

The Inn is a special place. My youngest and I have talked about trying to hike to all the backcountry inns in the US. But for just a quick getaway, this one is just far enough away to restore and renew me.

family, mental health

The Cruelest Month

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“April is the cruelest month.”

Maybe it is for T. S. Eliot. But for me, the cruelest month is July.

You might think I’d love July, really. It’s the heart of summer, and I am a teacher. Pool days and party nights, right? But these days, we go back to start a new school year in July, so the turn of the calendar brings a bit of dread. But even more so, July haunts me with bad memories.

It starts with the Tour de France, which usually kicks off in the first few days of July. The Tour was a big deal each year of my youth. Long before the days of streaming video, my dad and brother would get up in the middle of the night to watch the race. Throughout the month of July, it was always on in our house…if not the live stage, a recap or rerun or highlight show. Probably not surprisingly, I eventually developed a fascination with Lance Armstrong and the US Postal team (and the other teams he rode for.) Many a summer hour was spent watching the peloton float through the French countryside.

The family love for the Tour and its fanfare was eventually overshadowed by grief.

July is the month when I lost both of my parents. When I got the call that my mother’s short illness had ended, I had the Tour de France on my TV as I got ready to go over and sit at her bedside for my daily ritual. Four years later, the very same week, when I stood by my father’s bedside as he took his last breaths, the Tour de France was on the hospital TV.

These anniversaries are ones I carry in my heart. Some years I almost forget them. But then, more often than not, my heart gets heavy. Deep sighs erupt from out of the blue. Even when my brain is protecting me from sadness, my body remembers.

If only I could put a sign on my forehead….or pin a little note like Paddington Bear had: “July hurts. Take it easy on me.” Life doesn’t work like that. On any given day, plenty of people around me are suffering. When someone snaps at me for no reason, I have to assume their hearts are troubled for reasons that likely have little to do with me.

So I guess it’s no wonder when the Tour de France ads come on, my heart starts to sink. And most years it remains sunk through all the hard and sad anniversaries of July. The heat and heartache can sap whatever energy I have. It sneaks up on me sometimes, but when I remember I know to be patient with myself and just keep going. Eventually August will come.

celebrations, family

Whirlwind Weekend

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My youngest daughter joined a college club lacrosse team. One of the fun parts of this is travel. First up: an away play day in Nashville that just so happened to be my birthday weekend. That was an easy sell!

It was harder to find a traveling companion. Close family and favorite travel buddies couldn’t make it for one reason or another. I was kinda pouty until just a few days before, when the daughter I was going to watch figured out she could stay with me. We traveled to Nashville separately, but after her games we were able to spend the rest of the weekend together.

It was a whirlwind weekend of packed with fun. I had most of it mapped out before we met up. I started with morning coffee at Dutch Brothers, a perennial fave. Longtime readers know that I love to visit local coffee shops on my travels, but Dutch would be an exception. It’s a national chain, yes, but there isn’t one anywhere near my hometown. I can’t resist their positive energy or their soft top!

Then I found my way to one of the Five Daughters Bakery locations, which happened to be tucked in to a cute local marketplace. Most of the shops were closed at that early hour, but there were still some fun murals and photo opps. A handful of their hundred-layer doughnuts and I was off to the next destination.

After that, a super quick visit to Cheekwood to catch a glimpse of their fall pumpkin festival displays. I was the first one through the gates that morning, and more than likely the first to leave in time to make the start of the lacrosse games. Still, it was soothing and smile-inducing to see the beautiful plants and festive surroundings. I’m sure I could have spent a whole day there, but even just that small sliver of time made me feel lighter and carefree as I welcomed my favorite season of the year.

After lacrosse, we made a quick visit to a Nashville food hall with a close family friend. It had live music and a wide variety of local eateries – something to please everyone. Then we spent Saturday night on a “touristy” thing by visiting the Grand Old Opry. Pretty classic Nashville, but my daughter had never been. It was a great variety show, even if we hadn’t really heard of any of the acts. Wonderful entertainment. (An evening at the Bluebird Cafe is still on my Nashville wish list! Didn’t get tickets this time but I’ll keep trying.)

After the show, we drove about an hour to Cookeville. This brought us close to the next morning’s adventure, a kayak to Burgess Falls. The paddle was low key and not too technical, but it was pretty long. The scenery was pretty and then it was a short hike to the falls since the river waters recede a bit in the autumn months. The bottom of the falls are only reachable by kayak or hike, which made the view all the more sweet.

Time with my youngest becomes more precious each year as she moves through college. Long car rides leave time for us to chat and catch up. We talked this time about how, as time goes on, we’ve learned that we would rather have fewer things and more experiences together.

Just like my older daughter, I can hear that her dreams will take her to live in faraway places in the coming years. This makes these experiences and memories all the more sweet. Time and attention (and shared adventures!) are the best gifts we can give one another.

family

Missing You

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The last few days I have been missing my dad or the spirit of my dad.

Grief is a funny thing. It creeps up on you at unexpected times. It can be just a flutter in your heart or a vivid memory jerking the tears.

For me I have a night time shirt. An XXXL-type shirt bearing his photo. Not one I would wear out but one that’s comforting for those sleepy days. Maybe the visual on the shirt sparks the memories. Maybe it was the card in the mail from hospice on grief. Maybe it’s just the dust settling. I’m really not sure the nature of its source but it can take your breath away.

No matter the source I miss my dad in all forms. His younger vibrant days as my dad when I was a kid. The middle of the road days where he helped me navigate adulthood. To the end days when he needed help eating his dessert. I just miss him. There is really no replacement.

As life lessons need to be passed to my kids I find myself thinking what would he do. For now I cherish the memories and honor his spirit as I push forward.

I may never say goodbye to grief but I can push through the sadness. He would expect me to. Writing is a great form of therapy for me. If you lost somebody close to you, journaling your thoughts is always a great opportunity to push through the sadness.

I also have a great bestie named Teddie to hang with me as I write and today it was a nice cold glass of almond milk to wash away the woes.

Until next time…

family

What Was Taken?

2chicksandapen

Coronavirus has taken many things from many people but today it took my mom away from my dad of recent.

My dad lives in assisted living / memory care. My mom does not but she visits him daily. Due to all the health concerns she can’t visit him like she normally does daily. Hours of companionship lost. Talk about sad. On top of that she watches the news and sees messages of people age 80 and older will be left to die in places like Italy. I can’t even imagine her mindset.

This is traumatic for her and we can only imagine how hard it is on my dad. We have no way to tell him why nobody is there to visit. And if we did he may forget thanks to his memory. I mean sure he can get a message but he relies so much on the human interaction face-to-face. This process repeats daily and is vital.

Touch and visual stimulation of familiar faces vs. care workers is something that is hard to quantify but it’s part of his daily living. His days are limited. It seems like time is being wasted without visits.

I have to fly to visit. I am set to visit in a short time. Will I be denied access due to flying to see him? Will I even be allowed to fly as it seems each day gets worse.

Will he think we deserted him? Will his health decline? So many questions. No real answers. Time is all we have yet it seems like there is never enough time.

Coronavirus you have taken many things away from many people. Taking the elderly away from their family is just something I didn’t expect nor do I want.

Jobs will be lost. Financial woes are upon us. Small businesses will suffer. I am not one for negative vibes but this post is part of my own personal therapy as my normal has changed along with many others.

My blog is my keepsake of these troubled times. I may not want to remember but as long as I am able I will post away.

A big sigh from me as I wait with the rest of the world. My situation may be far less stressful than some but seeing anyone close to you suffer is never easy.

As one with Irish heritage, I post this today in hopes of good luck and good fortune for all. Happy St. Patrick’s day!

May this Irish wish grant you some peace or a smile. ☘️ 💋 ☘️