Journey: A Daily Prompt — WordPress suggested “Tell us about a journey — whether a physical trip you took, or an emotional one.”
Five years ago, when our oldest grand daughter was almost three months old, my girls decided they wanted to go to the beach for their birthday present.
My husband, knowing that he would be the only male on the trip, opted out. It was going to be just us girls. All four of us. Which quickly turned into five of us when my youngest asked to take a friend.
In a way, I think I got off cheap. Both of my daughters were born in July and I’ve always tried to separate their birthdays. Having them eight years apart helped in that endeavor since neither of them were ever interested in the same thing at the same time. Ever.
This was a birthday, though, that I could combine one activity for them both and still have some fun for everybody. Even me.
So we made our arrangements, packed up everybody and everything, including the baby and all the stuff that goes with that, and off we went to the beach. We were in no hurry. My husband would have had a full blown fit if he’d been in that car. We took about ten hours for a six-hour trip. We stopped, we shopped, we played, we talked, and we giggled. We pulled over to feed the baby, to feed ourselves, and to potty. There were no hurries and there were no worries.
The sun was just beginning to set when we reached the hotel. It was one of those tiny cheap hotels a block back from the beachfront. With two beds, a small bathroom, and a television, we settled in for our two-night stay. For our convenience, we also had a small refrigerator and a tiny microwave.
The three-month old stayed in the room with me a lot while the older girls went down to the beach. At thirteen and twenty-one, I figured they could all take care of each other. I was counting on the grand baby to entertain me.
When the baby ran out of bottles, I used the microwave to sterilize more. I filled each up with water, placed them in the microwave, and let the water boil in them for about a minute. It probably wasn’t ideal, but it was the best we could do under the circumstances. She survived it, at any rate.
The trip back was just as lazy. My husband swore we crawled home. But really we were just enjoying each other’s company. The baby slept most of the way, and if she cried we just pulled over again someplace else until she was settled.
It’s what you do with family. Just pull over, rest a bit, and let everything settle. And if you love each other, the pace at which you get back on track will never matter.
It’s the company throughout the journey, and the way you treat each other during it, that matters the most.
And plenty of diapers. That’s important, too.