Sometimes it's the destination.
Sometimes it's just a stop along the way.
Sometimes it's just the end*.
*Yes, Jeremy, simply to my posting a photo every day, and actually posting every day in general. Yes, I did it. 30 days, 30 photo posts. If you're bored feel free to check them out here.
A dozen of my friends. A few glasses of wine. Great food. Glitter. Paint. Sequins. Holiday music.
The official beginning of the holiday season for the last few years.
Despite all of our busy lives everyone took a little break to get together for a little decorating. Sharing stories. And laughter.
Most stayed to help clean up. They know I've had hostess thrust upon me for another night.
Not that I don't love having my friends over. But it would be nice to have a little time in between. Instead of four times in less than a month.
I really don't mean to complain. I love entertaining. Don't even mind the clean-up afterward. I just need a break. Mostly from other things, from my life in general.
And although I should feel all lit up like a Christmas tree after our fun-filled evening, instead I'm a little down. Wishing I could escape the snow. Go somewhere warm where there are beautiful flowers still in bloom, instead of bare tree limbs.
Not this year. Not with the accident resolution hanging over my head. Not with work. And even if I could, I wouldn't really want to be away for the holidays. It's just a nice thought every once in a while.
When they mentioned the name of the town, it sounded very familiar. So, I joined them to explore what is essentially a ghost town.
As we walked into town, the memories came back. I'd been there before. Many years ago. With my family. On one of our camping and four-wheeling adventures.
All six of us in my dad's Bronco. Pleadings of Daddy, don't fall off, as I looked down the mountainside perched on the arm rest of the back bench. My sister snug in the kid's seat between my parents. My brothers teasing me for being scared as they sat on the bench.
Tin Cup Pass. Walking around the ghost town.
I could have spent an entire day there. Just looking at the old buildings. The crumpled tin roofs. The weathered wood. The old cemetery.
Perhaps because mining is a part of our family history. Perhaps just because the old buildings seem to fit into the landscape better than modern ones. Perhaps because I grew up admiring the mining structures with my dad.
They almost seem a part of me, of my past. History that seems alive. Perhaps only because it happened nearby.
Some days everything seems to go wrong. Despite feeling empowered after a very productive meeting, the deadlines begin to suffocate. the weekend evaporates into thin air.
The issues from the accident are getting worse. The pain. Both physical and financial. Everything is crashing in around me.
I try to vent to my sister but she cuts me off, to tell me about her own more important life. I try to vent to my mom, but she too is busy with her own things, and not even home.
Then the boy calls, and he vents about his terrible day. I ask him about it. Try to be supportive.
Then he asks how mine was. I tell him in one word and he continues to vent about his.
I get that sometimes people need to vent. But venting should never be completely exclusive. Take the time to get it out. But then give them a little time to vent back if they need to.
Perhaps my day has just made me overly sensitive. Perhaps I just needed to vent.
When everyone else failed me, TheDog rested her head on my arm. And gave me that look that says everything will be alright.
And it will. Eventually. This I know. I'm just ready for that eventually to be now.
Stretching off into the distance. The promise of somewhere to go. Someone else to become. Something different.
Not sure whether following the track is the right thing. Perhaps it will lead me to where I am supposed to be.
Perhaps my somewhere, someone, something is in another direction.
Perhaps the only wrong choice is the non-choice. Doing nothing. Not pushing any limits. Not getting on a train in any direction.
I am not comfortable with things now. But I'm starting to become more so.
Starting to loose the energy to insist on what I wanted. Starting to forget why I wanted it in the first place. Starting to wonder if there is a right track.
Starting to loose sight that there could be a somewhere, someone, something.
The sun peeks over the clouds, as we sit atop the volcano.
There's a moment that you can actually feel. Hear almost. It leaves you breathless.
It's one of those moments you want to share with someone special. Not that my friends aren't special to me.
I just want to watch the sun rise atop a volcano with my someone. In silence. The kind of silence that means so much more than words.
Some days I know I'll get there. Other days I know my amazing vacation moments will only ever be shared with friends.
Taking a break on our ride down the volcano. A view of the island below.
It was more than worth getting up at 2am. The crazy driver on the winding road.
The view from the top as the sun rose over the clouds was incredible. Shared with good friends.
Even if life hasn't turned out exactly as I would have thought. I have amazing friends. Friends that are happy to share their adventures with me.
I hope to plan more. Soon. Hope to talk friends into adventures.
I'm absolutely chilled to the bone. But it was well worth it.
The boys pulled out a win. Their football season may very well include another game.
The boy made plans. In advance. A surprise, even.
And parts of the family got together after the game for a low-key leftovers dinner.
And best of all, I stayed as far away from anywhere shopping could be conducted. Deals or no deals, I don't get shopping the day after Thanksgiving.
What I would like is a warm fire. A steaming cup of hot chocolate. And a cute boy to snuggle up with.
Sitting around the table, clinking glasses. Thankful for each and every person there.
We're family. We have our disagreements. But when it matters we can all count on each other. No matter what.
When my brother asked why the new boy was not there, I told him the truth. The boy wanted a "me" day, as he called it.
I didn't admit it made me question if that would always be the case. Whether if things did somehow work out, if he would send me off to my family while he hung out at home alone.
I'm not ready to question it openly to my family. The minute I do, they'll insist he's not good enough for me. They always believe in me.
But for right now I want them to believe in him. I want to believe in him.
A ribbon winding into the distance. Reflecting the fading winter light. A relaxing sight.
After a day spent working and helping prepare for the family tradition, that type of relaxation would be welcome.
Looking forward to a little relaxation time of my own. As well as with the boy. And of course the chaotic family time.
Thankful for all. Despite that none is exactly what I'd hoped for.
Thankful for what we have. Not missing what we don't have. Flowing along.
In two days it's Thanksgiving. I don't know how that happened. It still feels like September.
The only thing that makes me realize it's the holiday season is the weather. It's cold. Finally.
The chill in the air today made me realize that it's a short week. That I need to help my sister get the Turkey on Thursday.
That soon after there will be tree and cd getting and places to be, shopping to do.
I'm not ready for the flurry of holiday activity. I still want to enjoy fall. But time has flown by, and it's time to start the festivities.
I need a stop button. I need time to relax.
I know I need a change. I know I have options. But I'm afraid.
Afraid to leave what I know. Worried that different won't be better.
And it's not that I don't enjoy parts of it. But there are days that make me want to walk out the door and never come back.
But I'm loyal. I believe in at least trying to work things out. See if things can't change. For the better.
If that doesn't wotk, at least I'll know I tried.
Tranquility. Peace. Happiness.
I recharged my soul and my caffeine at the coffee shop. TheDog relaxing at my feet as I read.
We took an extra long time walking home. No hurry. Savoring the beautiful weather.
Even work and house chores couldnt dampen the mood. They kept me busy. Helped my mind not to question things.
Even went for sushi. The fish was beyond delicious. The company was not so bad either.
But things aren't where I want them to be. And I'm tired of being that girl. It's not me. I'm trying to relax. Have fun.
But I expect and hope for more than I ever have. And perhaps that is most unfair to me.
Sometimes I find myself contemplating things. Sometimes this contemplation takes place at very inappropriate times. Sometimes in the middle of a family gathering.
There's a path that's expected of me. Of a person my age. Particularly a female my age.
We're to be married and having kids.
This expectation is ridiculous sometimes. I have friends who think I should just have the kids on my own if indeed I want them. And I do want to have kids. Definitely.
But I want to have a family, not just the kids.
And sometimes hanging out with my brother and his so-called perfect family, I want to scream. I think maybe the not having kids is a good thing for me.
I think more than the kids, I really want the guy. Until last night, I thought there was a chance I might have found him.
Last night ensured the path that everyone thinks I should be on is out of my reach. And watching my brother, made me realize that maybe that's alright.
A foggy day. Unusual. Snow clinging to each branch of the lone tree.
A sense of solitude. Like there is no one else in the world. Like no one else in the world will ever really know you.
Sometimes the solitude, the quiet is welcomed. Sometimes you just need someone to hold you tight and tell you it's going to be alright.
Sometimes no matter how much you need not to be standing on your own. you are.
Sometimes they say it's not you. But it has to be. Partially. At least. Or you wouldn't feel so alone.
It is nice to be home. Even if it's only been a few hours. Even if I have a ridiculous amount of things to accomplish tomorrow.
Friday's are supposed to be slower paced days. Tomorrow will be crazy. And I'm nervous.
I will talk with the doc about what the leak of the dye means. What my options are. What the chances are of my back returning to pain-free. Before the accident.
And I get to kick-off the ski season. Vicariously, since we have no snow around these parts.
Some think I'm crazy. Treating her like she's my baby. But she is.
Today, I called my sister to talk about various things. Accident related things. Her doc appointment. Mine. But mostly I called to talk to my baby.
Yes, I know she can't talk on the phone. But even though she can't hear very well, she perks up when she hears a familiar voice on the phone.
So, I called to say hello. That I missed her, that I'd see her Friday. My sister said she smiled and kissed the phone.
If you don't think a dog can smile, you don't know mine. She has a smile. And a pout. And a look that says get this puppy away from me.
So, alright, I might be a little bit crazy.
But since she's my baby, there will be only one choice if the allergic-to-dogs boy continues to be a part of my life. And he's the one that suggested he could get allergy shots. He thinks TheDog is pretty amazing, too.
Home is a place. Home is a feeling. Home is the people who love you.
There are reminders of home. A mountain. A river. Even a smell or a sound.
For me home is a mountain in the distance. Sitting on a patio in the sun. Seeing colored leaves in the fall. Family. Friends. And of course TheDog.
I've been gone too long. It's different when you're busy. It's different when you're on vacation. But when it's work or something like it that keeps you away, it's hard.
I couldn't be one of those consultants that travels often, or works somewhere for months at a time. This I know. But I thought I'd like the me time a conference might afford.
What I realized today after the boy said I didn't sound very happy was that there are things I can't do without for too long. I need sunlight. A view of a mountain. Drinking a cup of coffee on a patio. Talking with a friend.
I took a short break today. Grabbed coffee. Sat on a patio. Although I wasn't home and was catching up on work, it was perfect.
Just what I needed to recharge. I returned refreshed. But I am still ready to go home.
Just passing through. that's how it's always been. Usually with my grandma. Once all alone. Most recently with my mom.
This time it's for a few days. This time I'm tired. And lonely.
This time I just want to go home. Not for a few days. I will be more than ready by then.
It's sad to say goodbye. It's wonderful to have a group of great friends and know there will be occasions to get together.
Those occassions are becoming fewer and farther between. Mostly the weddings have died down. And going to visit eveyone takes more miles and vacation time than I have.
But we hatched a plan just before my college roommate dropped me at the airport. Girls' weekends. We've thought about them before, but they don't often come to fruition.
We're going to start planning now. Hopefully we can make it happen.
We're all busy, getting everyone together will be difficult. But after this amazing weekend spent with my best friends, I can't imagine waiting for the next wedding to see everyone. So, I'll do my best to get us all together again.
I spent the majority of yesterday and today with great friends. The friends that know me. Well. Who were right along beside me as I became me.
The weekend is centered around the wedding festivities of one. But it's a bit of a reunion for us all.
The wedding is tomorrow. Other festivities were last night and today. All with good friends, and many laughs and memories.
We helped the luncheon hostess last night and today preparing for, serving and cleaning up after. Even working hard is fun when it's with good friends.
My sides hurt a little. We've laughed more than I remember laughing in a long time. At old stories. At pictures. At our younger selves.
In the car, running errands, we talked about real friendship. About how even though we sometimes go too long without getting together, it doesn't matter. True friendship is always there.
I feel most like myself when I'm with them. We've travelled together, lived together, laughed together, cried together.
These girls are my home. My compass. They're part of me even when we're far apart.
I have a strange sense of calm. I'm not a scared flyer, but I worry. Not about the flight. But rather about what I've forgotten.
Today I was awoken early, finished packing on time with everything for the wedding and festivities and the conference. I hope.
Then I had my own special chauffeur to the airport.
We decided there wasn't time to stop for coffee. There probably wasn't but I sped through check-in and security, and got coffee here. And now have time to think.
About the trip. About other things.
Last night he brought wine over, from his trip. And we just sat and relaxed on the couch. Talking a little. Laughing a lot. It was perfect. Despite the earlier concern on his part, on mine.
Things seem to be going alright. Crossing fingers that I didn't just jinx it.
I'm heading south again to where the sunsets last longer. To where my friendships were made stronger.
To visit college friends and celebrate one's wedding. I'm very much looking forward to seeing R. It's been too long, even though it's only been a year.
And others I've seen more recently, but miss all the same.
No rest after the wedding. Then it's on to a conference for work. I'm sure I'll need to write and vent and worry to someone.
Since I was three, I have loved putting the boards on my feet and sliding down the hill.
There have been years when I haven't made it up as much as I would like.
But I haven't missed a season since that first season when my parents pulled me up the hill.
What if this little tear or whatever they do to fix it keeps me from skiing. From hiking. Cycling.
I'm worried. More than I will admit to my friends. To my family. More than I even admitted to myself.
We now interrupt our daily picture posts to bring you a life update.
So, there is a tear. And I'm not crazy.
I barely remember the procedure yesterday. But I do remember the doc showing me the picture he took while doing it. The one that shows the dye leaking out.
They sent me for a CT Scan after the procedure, for a better picture.
For three and a half years my doctors and physical therapists told me to do my exercises. To strengthen my muscles. Because the pain had to be muscular. I did them. Mostly every day, as I was told.
For three and a half years, it seemed they didn't believe me that the pain was still there. Didn't go away. Wasn't getting better.
And now I wonder if I made it all worse. If doing what they told me caused the tear to get worse.
The one thing I won't know until next Friday is what comes next.
For now, all I know is the dye exacerbated the problem. The pain I've been feeling for months, years, is worse than ever. Which only proves further there is a tear.
And did I mention? I'm not crazy.
No matter who is there, every step is taken alone.
For years I've hiked alone, taken road trips alone, and been happy to have the "me" time.
This bamboo path on Maui was from a hike I took solo, despite having good friends there on the island with me.
But sometimes we need someone, even if we don't want to.
My mom came up last night and stayed with me. Took me to the hospital this morning. But despite my insistence I could be left unattended, she is still here.
The boy wanted to stop by. But with my mom creating a tornado of my house in 24 hours, and me in complete pain. I simply told him I was tired and going to bed.
True, but really I would have stayed up to see him. I just can't deal with my mom right now. Alone, or mostly is what I need to be right now. If only I had a bamboo forest to walk through to calm my worries.
Every time I see a poppy I'm reminded of my grandfather. He passed away when I was three. I barely remember him, but what little I do, I do vividly.
I remember sitting on his knee in their kitchen, almost like it was a few years ago, instead of decades.
And every time I think of him I'm reminded of my grandmother's strength. Of how she made the best out of life even after she lost her husband and best friend.
For over three decades she kept going. Enjoying the little things in life. Spending time with her family.
And I hope her strength remains with me tomorrow. I'm getting another, much more invasive test done on my back. So they can maybe figure out what's wrong. Maybe they finally will. Three years and six months later. Exactly.
And all the while I'm worried about the boy. Although we had a great time together tonight, there's still something strange going on. And I don't know what, or what to do about it.
For years I hiked these trails.
Hiked them with many friends. Some who live close by, some who live far away. And always with TheDog.
Since the car accident, I've let my summer Saturday routine slip away. Too painful to do our usual route, our hikes became walks near home.
I didn't realize how much I missed those summers, until today's beautiful weather. Until I wished I'd grabbed TheDog and headed to the hills.
We would have had to take the low trail, since neither of us is in any shape for the usual. But that would have been perfect. Perhaps in a few weeks.
We now interrupt our daily picture posts to bring you a life update.
Ever since the boy returned from his trip, things have been a little weird. Actually, that's not completely true. Things were great the morning he showed up on my doorstep and we walked TheDog for coffee. Then had a leisurely lunch.
Sometime between lunch and the Halloween party that night, things got weird. And he cancelled plans, twice, last week.
And although the football game this weekend was fun. And he endured meeting my parents and hanging out with my sister again. Something was amiss.
So, of course, I asked if everything was alright. He said yes. But continued his strange behavior. I asked again, and he simply said he had a lot on his plate right now, and he knew he was acting strange. But it's not me. Not us.
But it's affecting me. Us. And although typically a reassurance such as this would whisk me back to my no-worries-everything-is-good state, his did not.
I have a feeling. And I just can't shake it. I hope I'm wrong.
Once the weekend hikes ended, it became our favorite spot.
Guilt for not hiking with TheDog started the weekend tradition.
Now every weekend that we can, we get up early and walk to our spot.
Despite the "man" telling us we could no longer stay, we found ways to continue the tradition.
And hopefully we will again be able to sit and enjoy our coffee on a sunny patio soon.
* photo brought to you by cell phone Saturdays... don't hold the poor quality against me...
Red paint on a plain structure. Man-made against the beautiful natural surroundings. The icon of my visits.
The first visit was incredible. As a stop on a roadtrip with one of my best friends from college. Sleeping on the floor of a house shared by many. Drinking in the scenery. My first picture under the bridge.
The middle to visit my brother. With the rest of my family. Made obvious that family trips were getting to be difficult.
The last was memorable, to visit a friend. He was out of town most of the time. But my personal (cute) tour guide, made up for being ditched. Plus more free time to visit other friends from high school and grad school. A painful knee under the bridge.
Looking forward to a return visit. Soon.
A quick hike. With TheDog, of course. Colors ablaze amid the pines.
The smell of mountain. The beginning of Fall. The promise of snow across the valley for skiing soon.
One of my favorite places.
Near memories of skiing. Near favorite camping spots, the rock and the creek.
A moment of color captured. To remember.
