for everything there is a season

Well we finally made it to Kentucky after many hours on interstate 40 with a carsick cat. Oliver did okay, really, it was just that whenever we took him out of his carrier, he turned away from the windows and buried his head into the seat. Looked like this pathetic little ostrich or something. We managed to make it to his parents place a little before one this morning. Bluh. I hate getting a late start. We didn't leave the house until 8:30 yesterday morning (I wanted to be GONE before six) and about ten minutes into the trip, we ask each other, "Uh, you turned the coffeepot off, right?" Of course, we turn around and go back to the house and discover that it was already off. Grrrrr. I must have had an out-of-body experience when I flipped that switch since I have absolutely no memory of doing it.

Then we hit the morning traffic in Fort Worth. And almost died once or twice through Dallas, but that's typical since there's always tons of construction and idiots.

Hmmmm. I think I'll dispense with the play-by-play of our twelve hour tour towards the Bluegrass State. We had some Taco Bell, managed to keep the cat from barfing or escaping, and did not have a collision or fender bender of any sort. Ever since we bought the truck new this past Labor Day, it has had the back fender replaced twice, had the door dented (the day after we got it), had a runaway Dr. Pepper explode in the passenger side seat, had the antenna bent and side mirror busted due to a flying cardboard box on the interstate. So needless to say, spending an entire day in that truck with no incidents is something to note. We can only hope that fate will smile down on us again when we drive back this weekend.

Coming home is so wonderful but I am already dreading the reality of having to leave. I wish I could just sit back and enjoy my time here, but I tend to count down the precious few hours I have until we have to pack up and go back. So I'm trying to relax and appreciate each moment. Right now, I am sitting in a Greyhound Bus circa 1960 that has been converted into a camper. My in-laws have been living here since October while they are building a new house. This RV/bus/camper thing is so cramped and uncomfortable, it's almost funny. Strange that I don't mind being here. I've always enjoyed spending time at Jonathan's house with his family. I like the predicability of the food we eat, the conversations we have, the dog coming in occassionally and running amok.

It's the same way with my grandparents, who we got to stop and see for a few hours last night. It's pretty low action over there, just lots of good food and mild conversation. They have this old pendulum clock (sort of seventies and ugly to be honest) that I have loved my entire life. For as long as I've been around, it's been hanging on the wall above their couch, with pictures of my mom and her three sisters on either side of it. It makes the most perfect ticking sound. I think the soft, slow clicks remind me of how time seems to stand still there, how my mother's family has managed to stay virtually the same despite births and deaths, marriages and divorces, good times and sad ones. I was glad last night that I had the opportunity to tell my grandmother how appreciative I was about all that. But I know in my heart that things inevitably will not always be the same. Years from now, my grandparents will be gone and those of us left will have to pick up the pieces and try to manage to keep the family together; to try to find some sense of normal again. I dread that day but I know it will someday come, like it or not.

So that's why I'm home. It's so painful to leave because I know that one day I will go back to Texas and life will be very different the next time I come back. I try to make memories for myself while I'm here and appreciate all these good things that I don't want to change. But they will.