I often wondered if if bees ever stop to just smell the flowers, as opposed to ceaselessly working all the time, gathering honey for the collective. The past two months since I’ve come back from my brief journey with my mom and cousins across the country in an RV trip have been very busy, to say the least. So I’ve finally had some breathing room to sit down and update this blog.
We set out on the one year Anniversary of my dad’s passing. It was my first time driving a giant RV, and I must admit it was a bit frightening at times, especially in the city of San Fran. We went to visit my grandma, who passed away one year after I was born. What’s interesting, is as a child, we used to go almost every year to San Fran to visit.
But I was to naive to understand. Even as I grew older, I went to visit out of respect, but I never understood what my mom felt. And that is, the profound loss of losing a parent. After San Fran, we headed east towards Nevada/Utah.
Wherever we went, whatever we saw, I did feel that my pop was with me, and we did see some really beautiful things.
I would love to go back to Zion National Park in Utah again. I haven’t seen much of the rest of the country, but for sure it has been up to this point want of the most awe inspiring places I’ve seen.
I had to cut my trip short though. Only had 3 days off from work, so I left them after Zion to fly back home. However, I knew my mom was in good hands. My cousin’s hubby was more than a capable driver.
They went on to tour the rest of the country, and I called every day when there was service to check up on them.
After looking at their photos, it made me think about an excerpt from a song from the band Death Cab for Cutie.
I always think of my parents when I hear this verse.
I feel that wherever you go, you take your loved ones with you. Whether it be your wife/husband, children, family, best friend. What you experience, and see through your eyes. How you conduct yourself in life. They are all present, in some form or another. They influence your actions.
The only time I took a pause when processing my mom’s pictures was when they went to White Sands National Park, New Mexico.
It was one of the last few trips we took as a family, with my dad being present. So when I saw that place again, and I knew my mom was there, I must admit, I did feel a small tinge of anger. Not at my mom, not at anything in particular. Just the fact that my father isn’t there in those photos. I felt silly afterwards, but some of the photos I just outright skipped, refusing to look or process that section. I told my mom this and she laughed.
Portraits of my mumsy.