The day that was close to two years away finally arrived today, August 10, 2011. It seems like a life time ago that Ann said "St Margaret Mary's Youth group wants to take kids to WYD in Madrid in August 2011. Wouldn't it be nice if we could go." To which I replied, "Why not. Start saving and I'm sure there will be fund raisers."
I knew Ann wanted to go and in short order Rebecca and Micah joined the pilgrimage. Things started slowly at first but over the past 18-months we have been involved with many fund raisers. We took on possibly the most successful one when we agreed to make peanut butter fudge to sell. We made close to a thousand pounds of fudge and talked about the trip each time we made it. Today as the buses were loading I thought I could still smell peanut butter in the air.
To say the last week leading up to today was hectic is the same as saying that the ocean between here and there is wide. Packing for one is tough, packing for three is challenging especially when one of the three lives in the 19123 zip code. Of course having raised seven children Ann took it all in stride. Instead of needing three pairs of shoes, three capris, four blouses (short, long and sleeveless), two pair of shorts, sweaters, jackets, ponchos, umbrella, toiletries, eight undies, two bras, endless socks, bed rolls, ground covers, passports, licenses, ids, and on and on ad infinitum, we need all that times three. Except for the bras and undies, Micah passed on the bras and would only say that he need less because "One pair last three day, rightside-in, inside out and commando."
Then due to some misinformation, everyone was told that Euros could be purchased at AAA auto club by anyone but that reality was different, we gladly made multiple trips to triple-A to purchase them for all those non-members. I am not saying we were in and out of there a lot but we are on a first name basis with the desk ladies, on the Christmas card list of the Euro seller and have been asked to host a trip to Europe next fall.
"Chaos" was the word that best describes the final five hours before boarding the bus for BWI. I'll let it at that. No one person is to blame, it was just the situation. To have teens and recently teens just stand and jump up and down shouting "We're going to Spain!" and breakout out into uncontrolled singing and shouting, pretty much paints an accurate picture of the energy and adrenalin generated by the moment. Those times and those moments are over for me as I much prefer a more pedestrian pace and a 'let's just get-on-with-it' attitude. I have been stressed many times since 1975 and today jumped into the Top Ten for me. I had several friends who do not imbibe offer to meet me afterwards with a case or a couple of fifths. From this I was assured that what I was experiencing was not only me.
And then the engines roared to life, the doors were closed, and exhaust fumes filled the air with the fragrance of departure. They were gone. Rather, Ann was gone.
The only way I can describe the feeling I had and still have is that I feel like one of those chocolate bunnies found in your Easter basket. Nice on the outside but a hollow feeling on the inside. I guess thirty-six years of living and loving someone elicits feelings like that at times like these.
Father God, guide their steps, surround them with angels and let them feel your presence. Be with Seth and me here in 17103 and spin that hour hand hastening them home. - DD
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