We’re in the last week on the coast and it’s been glorious. I’ve been to the beach twice a day, every day, sometimes with Cody, sometimes alone, even a few times with Marika. Most days I pick up litter, watch the pelicans, and do modified sun salutations at the water’s edge. Weekends are getting busier and noisier, with more trucks and golf carts and families on the beach. This past Saturday we enjoyed a fireworks display right out the living room window.

Marika has gone birding almost every day, and she has seen more varieties of birds, and so many new birds, than ever before. Already we are talking about returning next spring.

I’ve been reading and writing, making postcards and binge-watching Netflix, really enjoying the feel of being on vacation. And one day last week we drove to Port Arthur for a day of touristing. We visited a Buddhist Temple, and the Museum of the Gulf Coast, drove around the refineries, and ate no-frills Vietnamese food.

 

But here’s the thing about all of this freedom: it can get pretty lonely.

Marika is gone most days, from early morning to late afternoon. And when she comes home, she updates her bird lists, studies her bird book, and then lies down in front of the TV because she’s had a day.

And that truly is wonderful. For her.

But I’ve been alone all day, and I am starving for someone to engage with.

Yes, I’ve chit chatted with the RV park owners, and waved and said hello to several neighbors. But I haven’t had a real conversation about anything deep and meaningful with someone in weeks. Or so it feels.

Of course I keep in touch with friends in Phoenix. But a quick catch-up phone call, or a back and forth email conversation is not at all the same as a three-hour in-person sitting together, with several full-on body hugs sprinkled in.

So I’ve been spending a lot of time crying, feeling sorry for myself, and aching for community and connection. One morning, after I posted a picture on Facebook of my morning beach walk with Cody, and hinted at my loneliness, a friend shared how the water is always healing for her, like a mother.

And so I walked back to the beach, but, instead of focusing on picking up litter and counting steps, I walked to the edge of the water, looked out at the low gentle rolls, allowing the cool water to wash over me. I stopped thinking and feeling and simply opened to healing.

And again, of course, I remembered that I am responsible for my own happiness.

And so, as I plan our route for the next few weeks, I’m making sure we visit some friends along the way, so that I can get some much needed in-person time with real people, and real hugs.

When we leave the coast on Sunday, we have to return to Houston to deal with the transmission pump in the RAV4 AGAIN, because the alarm won’t stop alarming, which means we can’t tow it. Maybe it will be a three-minute fix, maybe a three-day fix. So we’re keeping things loose until we know.

Once the pump is fixed, we’ll begin our travels north and east toward Washington D.C. We’ll spend a few days in Lufkin, Texas visiting with a friend, then we’ll be in Shreveport, Louisiana for a week. We’re volunteering at Chimp Haven, a refuge for chimpanzees who were the subjects of testing and experimentation. Marika has been a supporter of the organization for years, and has dreamed of volunteering there, even though you don’t have contact with the chimps. We’ll be chopping food, cleaning buckets, folding laundry, and who knows what else. And we’ll be able to observe the chimps in their open-space habitats, simply being chimps.

We’ll spend a few days in Memphis to hug another friend, visit some museums, and restock at Costco. And then, who knows.

The last three weeks of the trip are still unmapped. The calendar is marked with stretches of lines marked “Someplace” and “Someplace else,” so that we have space and time to enjoy the traveling, to explore off the highways, to not know exactly where we’re going until we get there.

If you’re along our route (we’ll be traveling north of I-40, staying on smaller highways, heading to D.C.), let me know. I’d really love to get together!