The Midlife

My mom and me

As we approach Pumpkin Spice Latte season (my favorite!), I wanted to reflect on my recent vacation, the first fantastic one in our mostly post-Covid living.

Over the past few vacations, I have traveled with my beloved sister, her husband, and two kids. My niece and nephew are perfect playmates with my daughter. My husband is always good natured about letting the wives plan most of our activities. This year we went to Cashiers, NC.

I wouldn’t necessarily call myself outdoorsy by nature (See what I did there?). But over the years, being outside for walks and listening to birds and insects doing their thing has been incredibly calming and centering. I think I’m drawn more to the idea of finding some mental stillness and quieting my mind, if even for a short time.

Our first of a few hikes was unexpectedly treacherous. The rugged ascent was on a decline ending in the most breathtaking waterfall, while the descent’s incline had me stopping frequently, gasping for air. The rigorous movement combined with the intense July heat made the hike a test of the physical and mental. The experience made me feel powerful.

One morning, we canoed eight miles and for nearly three hours. (My sister and her daughter and my brother-in-law and nephew kayaked alongside me, my daughter, and my husband.) I found myself trying not to get annoyed with our kids’ chatter. I wanted them to be present and listen to the beauty around them. They were. Their giggles and robust conversations brought me comfort in observing the camaraderie.

We stopped for a snack break on the lakeside, commenting on our beautiful surroundings. Nothing could be more right, until my daughter declared she needed to poop. You can’t hold it? I asked. No, I can’t, she said. So, I kept cover for any passersby while my daughter relieved herself near some surrounding trees. I attempted to cover her poop with rock, and unfortunately one would not suffice. I reached for a second rock and came into contact with the remnants of another person’s poop! I was completely mortified, as my family and I shrieked with incredulous laughter. I guess sometimes Shite Happens.

After leaving NC, our respective families returned home and my daughter and I returned to my sister’s home for 10 days. We ate, drank wine (my sis, mom, and I), watched two fantastic TV shows (The Horror of Dolores Roach on Amazon Prime and The Bear on Hulu), swam, worked out together, and made great memories while visiting with my brother, his wife, my two nieces, and the OG: my Mom.

My mom’s dementia goes up and down in severity. She was mostly lucid and talkative, much like her typical disposition. We reminisced a great deal about our childhood; my Mom always did her best to make us feel safe and loved. I attribute much of my independent spirit to the unbridled faith my mother placed in just believing we would do the right thing. And while that was often the case, when we failed, my mother never made us feel like failures. I know I’m lucky.

On much less serious notes, we went to the movies over vacation. We saw Barbie and Mission: Impossible – Dead Reckoning Part One. I know this is a mostly unpopular opinion, but I found the former tremendously overhyped. As a lover of all things Barbie, while I loved the overall messages of female empowerment and the eye candy of Barbie world, the film was a little too long and heavy handed at times. But the variety of actors and music were really good.

And once again, Tom Cruise crushes it in the movie world. Dead Reckoning Part One was fast-paced and exciting from start to finish. I know a few people that really hate Tom Cruise. I’m not one of them. I do appreciate his acting and his willingness to do his own stunts. You’ll have to let me know what you think.

As I close this vacation post and the subsequent adventures, I can’t help but give a RIP shout-out to Paul Reubens and the many years Pee Wee’s adventures impacted my adolescence. His merriment and silliness have always been a reminder of how we should never outgrow the joy of being kids at heart.

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