[a moment] to be real

[moment 137]

Our children had not seen their grandparents on my husband's side since Thanksgiving 2019. It was definitely time for a visit. Before making the long drive to Pennsylvania, we all took covid tests to make sure we were all safe to be together. 

Six of the seven of us packed my van and hit the road. 

We spent the next four days sleeping in a tent, then a (large) garage, not wanting to pack our tent up in the rain. We played cards and dominoes and Quirkle with Gram and Grammy. We went to the Mennonite store and the discount grocery store to stock up on things. My husband and teens/young adults went to Lakemont Park and enjoyed go carts and mini golf, as well as going to a blacklight tour of Lincoln Caverns. We played Dungeons and Dragons for a few hours each afternoon. 

It was wonderful catching up and spending time with my husband's family. 

And it was. And I could leave it just like that, but that wouldn't be the entire truth. 

I didn't sleep much. I was in too much pain and too exhausted to join in activities or do much of anything. I had trouble concentrating even on playing games, so I kept score instead. While everyone else was out having fun, I collapsed into bed, miserable. I attempted not to bring everyone else down with me and to do what I could with as much energy and joy as I could muster, but it was difficult. 

I dreaded the drive home and the days to follow. I knew my body would be recovering from the trip for quite some time.

This is the reality of "vacations" for me and for other people living with chronic illnesses.

I haven't had a real vacation in years. I haven't found a way to make that happen. Nevertheless, what I can do is concentrate on what I can do and on the joys along the way.