We are in the 11th hour of our winter season in
Texas. We all know that life is full of surprises, but these past five months
have been unprecedented in the surprise department. I came to Texas knowing we
would see old friends, return to a workcamp job we have done previously and
anticipating a mixture of familiarity, a not so pleasant prediction, and the
excitement of anticipating what this season would reveal in terms of new people
in our lives and experiences. On a scale of 1-10 in unexpected occurrences, the
‘22/’23 season was a 15.
I am leaving Texas a dramatically transformed human being as
a result of the experiences of the past months. It has been a life altering
season, to say the least.
On our trip south, we talked about the fact that last time
we were in this park we were with friends we worked with at our summer gig at
Saylorville. That being the case, we spent a lot of time with them getting to
know them on a deeper level, met a few others and had a decent season, then
COVID happened and we took a 2-year hiatus from winter work camping. This year
we came back to a place we hadn’t seen in three years, not knowing anyone in
the park very well. The expectation of meeting new people and getting involved
in a different way was exhilarating to me as we anticipated the upcoming
season.
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| Champ and I at a park luncheon |
We arrived and immediately connected with our close friends
John and Cathy. I’ve written in past posts about the experience of losing John
to Pancreatic Cancer and being present to help Cathy deliver end of life care
to him and witnessing the very intimate experience of releasing the love of her
life to the great beyond. That was the expected part of the winter, but the
impact it had on my personhood is indescribable, so I’ll leave it there.
We quickly connected with a motorcycle group here in the
park and forged lasting friendships with two of the couples. When you travel,
you meet people and have fun. Then there are those you meet and connect with
and know that the friendship will endure. We found that with our new friends,
Ben and Jackie and Scott and Penne having bonded over motorcycles and cats. We had our last happy hour tonight. What a joy
it has been to add these incredible couples to our lives.
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| Ben and Jackie |
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| Honky Tonkin' with Scott and Penne |
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| A Nice turn out for a Wednesday ride to the Island |
I joined the quilt bee this year and met a number of very
talented women and learned a great deal from the classes I took. I am putting
my newly learned quilting skills to work on my own projects and am looking
forward to being involved next year.
I went to several birding club meetings and connected with
other bird nerds. My schedule didn’t work as well for their activities and I quickly
realized I was entering the territory of getting too many things on my plate.
We came to Texas with my beloved cat Buster who I’ve had
since he was a young orphan kitten and who Champ has always said I treated like
a baby and had an uncommon bond with. Yes, he was bonded to me like a child. I
had no earthly idea I would watch him pass this winter. Just a month after I
watched my dear friend John pass, I watched my sweet Buster cross over. I’ve
had pets my entire life and grieved over all of them, but this one took my
breath away and I cried for days. In the midst of all that loss, I took in
another orphan kitty, Penny, who is growing and thriving and in her own way
filling the void that Buster left in my heart. I have a thing for Tabby’s and
as much joy as she brings to me, there is a little male Tabby cat in her
future, I’m sure of that. I’ll find myself holding some sweet, lovey, purring
bundle of stiped joy one day, and she will have a new roommate. It will be my
gift to her. She is independent but doesn’t like being alone so I put it in the
‘she will thank me later’ file, when the time comes.
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| Napping in her basket after a good romp |
I certainly didn’t expect our oldest son, daughter in law
and two of their kids to be sitting on our patio after work one February
afternoon, but that is what happened and our hearts were full that fun,
whirlwind weekend that they surprised us and we trotted all over the RGV having
a blast and basking in the giddiness of having some of the kids around.
Then, the grandaddy of them all. We bought our Itasca six
years ago, with the intention of keeping it till we came off the road someday,
but the stars aligned and one night when we were talking with Cathy, the plan
came together for Champ and I to sell our Itasca and buy their motorhome. It is
a nice upgrade for us, and Cathy will still have it in her life on some level,
be able to see it, stay in it and watch it carry on the journey of the full
time RV life with us. It is so special to us to have it. I remember when we
sold all of our possessions, there were certain things that people I knew
bought, and it gave me comfort to know that even though it wasn’t in my house
any longer it was somewhere I would see it occasionally. I imagine it is the
same for Cathy on some level. She didn’t sell it to some stranger, who would do
God knows what to it and take it God knows where. It’s with us and she will see
it regularly. It’s like having a piece of John with us. We’ve been in it for
three weeks now, but things are going ‘to get real’ as they say, when we pull
out of the Valley with it next Thursday and take it back home to Iowa. The
Itasca is being looked at and inquiries are regular, it’s just a matter of time
before we pass that torch.
As if there hasn’t been enough death shrouding me, I got
word that an ex-brother in laws brother passed away. He is six months younger than
I and had a massive heart attack. Having known each other since we were in our
early twenties and having been close to me and my kids at one time the news has
hard to hear. While I was watching the local paper for his
Obituary to post, I saw an old friend from my past who was a positive,
important part of my life at one time had also passed. That makes the third
person in a year who was my age, including a cousin, who has died. I am staring
my own mortality straight in the face. Not just in the mirror, but up in your
face, with a finger jammed in your eye kind of ‘in your face’.
I am in this weird emotional quagmire of middle age, facing
mortality kind of mood. I am anxious to get home and hug my friends and family
with a passion that should kind of scare them. I’m a therapeutic hugger I’m
told, but I feel I may crush some people when I get home. I will hug and cling
to people here before I leave, having a hypersensitive perspective on mortality
at this particular moment in my life.
It’s been a winter filled with lots of seat time on the
motorcycle, over 2,000 miles. I had a minor accident but within two weeks the
bike was repaired, my body was healed and I got back on the horse to get my
comfort back. It’s been a winter of profound loss and new friendships with
people that I can’t imagine not knowing. They join us in the small club that
full timers form of people they meet, connect with and hold close in their RV
family.
As I write, our oldest son is on the road transporting the
Itasca back to Iowa through sketchy weather. My kids are attending Tony’s
funeral together on Sunday, that I will not be present for, and we will be with
Cathy on Wednesday as we gather at the Refuge where they worked in their RV on
their former Volunteer Village site the Celebrate John’s life the day before we
leave for the summer season.
As the Red Winged Blackbirds flock and start making their
way north, so do the snowbirds. My last day in the office was a marathon of
checkouts and phone calls. I linger on the Resaca watching the Texas birds that
I won’t see again till next winter and day dream of the upcoming summer at
home. A wedding and camping trip are already on the calendar along countless
sleepovers with grandkids who are anticipating our return.
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| The magnificent Scissor Tailed Fly Catcher |
I am filled with a
strange concoction of angst and excitement as we prepare for our upcoming trek
north. It will be our first in the new rig. We will be doing our best to help
Penny adapt to travel. She has had a rough start to her young life and is
easily upset so we’ll do our best to help her learn to be on the road.
Being in my late 50’s is scaring me right now. But, this too
shall pass. I wake up every day thankful for the privilege that has been denied
to many close to me. The privilege of aging.
Until Next Time…
