welcome to...

my new driver's license arrived in the mail just today.  whew.

i decided to get the "real" ID that allows me to fly on airplanes because it was the practical choice... but i'm a little gun shy about flying (pardon my somewhat inappropriate reference to my very inappropriate luggage).

besides that, i have been thinking and... i might ask that my tombstone someday reads "she loved road trips." yeahhhh, maybe not if i die in a car accident... this post is heading in a morbid direction. let's see if we can't make a u-turn.

a picture of "home church" with our besties should do the trick. i'd up and drive to idaho to see them every month if i didn't constantly tell myself "no."

during this quick visit we enjoyed each other like we do. it's sometimes hard to explain what happens when jemayla and i get together because we cram so much learning into our visits every time but this time there was one little moment that passed between us that summed it up.

i think we were feeding babies and washing dishes and entertaining big kids and i said something like, "you are just one of my favorite humans and i love everything about you and i'm so happy to be with you" and jemayla said, "that's why we'll always be friends."

i should say that this was a special road trip for ossi and gwen and me. i should mention that our visit to see jemayla and byron was absolutely cathartic for me (even more than normal) for two reasons. number one... we were visiting jemayla when i prayed and got the impression that we needed to have gwen and i desperately needed her to meet this sweet baby. 

number two... jemayla introduced me to the communication help that recently gave me the tools to begin rebuilding a broken bridge between ossi and me. this trip was an important adventure for us and the beginning of healing and building a new relationship.

on the road with him i was especially mindful of his need for playful connection and i was awake to the joy i feel in meeting that need. it was just fun. we ate at in-and-out and watched (i listened) to the whole harry potter movie collection. we slept in our car with a tiny baby and loved every minute and mile. i'm baffled when i remember that we didn't argue once when it was just the three of us.  

on the way back from arizona (our other stop) we mused, "what if the climate change wasn't gradual? what if oregon bordered arizona and at the state line there was a ripple in the air. one moment... tall, red mesas and deep, rocky gorges with squat brush and sparse cactus... then suddenly... towering trees strung with spongy moss and lichen veils." 

i'd drive back and forth through that rippling barrier to feel the magic again and again.  

a visit to arizona is like turning telescope dials in my mind. like changing the murky water in my fish tank brain.  the views are so crisp, so distinct, so...not like here.

recently tamsin sent the kids sweet letters and pictures from their visit... there's something so special in their regard for their arizona auntie. evy and finn will forever treasure their plane ride with her (whew, i didn't need to fly!) and their big-kid-stay without parents present. 

some time i'd like to go visit her all by myself so that i can be me with her and not a mom for just a short while. though i hardly remember a time when i was me with her and not a mom. i think my bossy energy has always been the same, it was just directed at her back then, ha.

"mom" me will mostly mark this visit by the moment (during covid) that gwen came down with an instantaneous fever and power-puked all over me in a restaurant. i'll remember staying up with her through the night and mustering my strength for the longest leg of our drive. 

from their trip the kids will take away a many-layered memory like a colorful cake. they'll see it like disco-ball lights of a roller rink. it will become a part of who they are like a spiderman bite.

childhood is like that. 

the closest thing to magical, shimmering, climate boundaries. 

they're traveling in and out of experiences that form their very selves, which is terribly awesome.

road trips are a sublime setting for self-discovery, i think. you discover what you're made of when you're sleeping in a too small car with too many people after eating dinner at a 7-11. add covid cautions and disinfecting after stops. "where are my shoes" joined by "where is my mask". 

here lies megan, may she rest-stop in peace.

welcome to oregon, idaho, utah, nevada, arizona, and california. 

our backyard.

thanks, van.