Birthday Weekend Away

My birthday weekend began the moment I embraced my impotence and let the responsibilities fall away.  I was halfway to the airport at Target last minute shopping for a swimsuit that fit me when Xenia called to explain her school shoe issue.  They were wet because of a romp in the stream at the park the day before.

“You’ll have to ask Sophia or your daddy about that.  I can’t do anything to help you.”

I reveled in the truth of those words.  Even though the morning had started later than intended and nothing was packed, Sophia and Mike got me out the door in decent time and took the little children to school.  I tried to sneak the precalculus textbook into the carry-on backpack, but Sophia insisted I leave it behind, and Mike backed her up.

“We’ll handle everything here.  Leave your work and go have a great time,” they told me.

Knowing they would deal with the shoe dilemma, I hit the end button and began my vacation.

Kelly met me at the airport, picked up Indian food from our friend Gretchen’s favorite restaurant, and dropped me off at Gretchen’s house.  The chemo which combats her terminal cancer has been just as effective as COVID-19 in robbing Gretchen of her sense of taste, but Indian curry has enough kick to offer some enjoyment.  We stayed in masks ten feet apart and gave arm-waving motions from across the room in place of the hugs we longed to give.  It was the oddest of circumstances and yet we talked of God and books and crafts and children just as we always have.  In many ways, it was a continuation of the long conversations we have held throughout the years.  We were blessed with one more good visit, one more good day.  It was more than either of us had hoped for.

I came because Gretchen and I share the same birthday and we wanted to wish each other the best in person one more time.  Even though there is an abundance of restrictions that made my appearance in public illegal once I crossed the state border, it was worth every inconvenience to celebrate together for what may be the last time.  May God grant Gretchen many good months if not many years.

From Gretchen’s house, Kelly and I drove to our Airbnb cabin in the mountain wilderness east of Albuquerque.  It was decorated in cowboy décor and cute as anything though the composting toilets took some getting used to.  Throughout the weekend Kelly and Christa brought me food and anything I wanted.  Their circumstances with exposure to COVID-19 and out of town travelers allowed them to spend time with me without fear.  Kelly dropped me off and went to Walmart where she picked up matching fuzzy pajama tops and soft pajama bottoms for the three of us.  When she returned, we stripped down and put on the loungewear which we stayed in for the rest of the weekend, though I did switch back to my favorite nightgown to sleep in.  Christa had to work from home on zoom the next day.  She spent the night with her family, but the three of us stayed up late talking.

My sleep was interrupted in the wee hours of the morning by a rooster.  The second night I switched rooms and was awoken by a windy snowstorm.  The third night we didn’t get to sleep until one, were woken up by dogs barking at three, and were up at six to get to the airport.  I remember some green chile enchiladas somewhere that weekend, but mostly we ate chocolate.

My actual birthday started with work on my online art lessons.  I can now draw the general outline of a face and eyes.  I like the fact that we are all wearing masks because I can get away with drawing people without noses or mouths.  The day went on to include romance movies and an evening dip in the hot tub.  Hot tubs in the snow are a magical combination.

Over the weekend we also saw our friends Susan and Jenifer.  It was like one of those television reunions.  We all knew each other in the child-bearing years, Kelly, Christa, Francis, Susan, Emilee, and Jenifer whose kids were all older than ours.  Our band began its break-up during school years and then so many of us moved away.  Here we were fifteen years later with teenagers and grown children.  The combination of being out of my jean skirt and long sleeved-shirt uniform, spending time in the hot tub together, and being with ladies who have the history to know me better than almost anyone else opened my heart and soul in a way that I haven’t experienced before.  I never thought I’d be the kind of person who would have a girls’ weekend away, but it was so good for me…for all of us.

We are all about twenty pounds heavier than last we hung out or at least I am, but when I saw us in our bathing suits, I couldn’t help but notice how beautiful we all are.  More than one of our husbands are wondering at our body size change but looking into the mirror of my friends made me feel beautiful too.  When we watched the romance movies, it was obvious that the main characters were all in their twenties, and I compared myself favorably with my peers rather than against the young Hollywood models.

We are also all struggling through the teenage years.  After many heart-to-hearts with everyone, I’m convinced that teenagers are meant to break their parents’ hearts.  I say that I want my kids to be happy, but when they find their own paths it’s hard for me to accept.  Sometimes they make bad decisions but even when their decisions are not bad but different from my choices, it’s hard to watch.  We talked about our teenage years and what our mothers must have been thinking and encouraged each other with thoughts of how we all turned out in the end.

The conversation drifted from generalizations to specifics and back again.  When we spoke of our teen drivers, there was much to say on our fears and concerns and the challenges of setting curfews.

Thinking of the “Find My iPhone” app that helps the kids and Mike and I keep track of each other, I said, “Don’t you have a GPS tracker on your teen?” 

Friend 1 said, “You mean the tracking device you can put on the bottom of their car?”

Friend 2 said, “How about the one you can inject in their arms?”

We laughed at the thought of telling our kids there was a third shot for the COVID-19 vaccine.  Then we reminisced on how wonderful the days of diapers and bottles were.  We all miss the control and influence of those bygone days and forget the crushing responsibility that went with it.  Kelly and Christa and I also watched YouTube videos making fun of pre-teen girls.  I came home feeling less isolated and more in step with other mothers.  Teen problems are harder to share than toddler temper tantrums or diaper rashes.  I suppose any issues with children feel shameful, but life circumstances made it much easier to commiserate in Frances’ house each week with our preschoolers, toddlers, and life-filled bellies than our current day situation.  The isolation of this pandemic makes it even worse.

We talked about how spiritual we all were back in the day.  My faith has been tested so much since then and though I am still a believer, I feel a little worse for wear.  There’s talk of a zoom meeting for us to encourage each other once again.  I hope that happens.  We may not have met up to say an Akathist together, but we did say our evening prayers and we reminded each other of the value of prayer and of living the Christian life.

What a lovely weekend.  I came away encouraged, embracing where I am in life, and reminded that I am not alone.