Battle Hymns of a Hot Mess Mom

After a short trip to escape from it all – it’s time to go homeward. It’s always a great time and always sad to leave. I learned my lesson coming up that I didn’t want to take medicine before the car ride but also learned that taking it too late made me sick as hell. So I was motivated to get on the road this time so that I could still take my medicine early enough that I would not be a wreck. We hug a little longer and tighter as we get closer and closer to the truck. Windows rolled down to touch hands for a few more seconds. We wave and a blow final kiss at one another as I hold my tears in. This isn’t the final time, there will be another time.

As we head down 99 the whole truck is in silence. Kids fall back asleep as they were up far too late and had a harder time waking up this morning. J focuses on driving as I type and look out the window at the farm lands. Corn. Almonds. Grapes. Pistachios. Rows and rows of crops. I’ve forgotten the view as it’s been over a year since I was last up here. The timing last winter didn’t work out and we missed Thanksgiving and Christmas and then I got sick. The dairy farm and the Halo plant have always been our landmarks of how much longer we have to drive until we’re there.

Each of these mark another 50 miles closer and in this case it’s another 50 miles further. The blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb. J and I spent our early years on 99 going to backyard BBQs, wineries or headed out on the boat. Having left it, we now view it as our road home. There’s a beauty on 99 that you only get when you’re no longer on it. You take it for granted, the open fields of rotated crops, the young saplings for next years harvest and yes…the smell of manure. We always ask who farted knowing full well it’s from the dairy farm. Lee Brice sang it well, this here around 99 is truly the amazing, Drinking Class.

I’m grateful. If donor hadn’t needed additional testing, I wouldn’t have had this blessing to be able to drive up and spend a long weekend here. I wouldn’t have been able to comfort and love on my niece, I couldn’t have hung out and laughed with K at the Roulette Table, wouldn’t have gotten 60 pounds of chicken (that one was just crazy), I wouldn’t have chatted with new people and laughed with them, I wouldn’t have hugged the bartender at Casino night that just wanted to send me love and positivity as she poured a little extra pineapple juice for me and wouldn’t have tasted B’s incredible pozole. There is a plan for it all, I just wish sometimes I knew the plan but over and over I am shown – there is a plan. The “downs” aren’t always that – they are in fact detours – detours to give me blessings. That includes this cancer – while I’m not necessarily grateful I have cancer, I am grateful for the life lessons and the opening of my eyes to see what matters and what doesn’t, who matters and who don’t. I’m grateful for the kindness of strangers. I’m even grateful for those that stare at me for my Fraggle Rock hair. Besides a hat to keep my head out of the direct sun – I wore no cover and no wig. Is it attractive, no. But is it authentically me, yes. I’m good with that.

There it is. The grapevines are up ahead. This has been our marker for La La Land. Over this mountain we go back to reality and the busyness of life, chemo, work and soon to be school. I need to start preparing the kids for their first week of school. Print out return to school health forms and dental visit forms – checks on the fit of everyone’s sneakers and how much life is left of their backpacks. Monday will start my logistics for Back to School, as I may be in the hospital for their First Day of School. At least this week, I have some purpose!