Trip to Baltimore

As I mentioned in my last Thankful Thursday post, David, Audrey, and I went to Baltimore with my Dad, brother Kevin, sister-in-law Jenny, and nephew Carson.  The purpose of our trip was two-fold:  We wanted to introduce the kids to their maternal great-grandparents and a great uncle and second cousin that they'd never met and we also wanted to help my Dad pack up some things in his parents' house (since they now live together in an amazing heavenly mansion.)


As is usually the case when you're traveling with small children, you have to make up your mind that you're just going to role with it before you even leave the driveway.  If the trip is going to be an enjoyable one, you've got to "pack your patience" as I so often remind myself and David.  SO, when the plane was delayed almost an hour on the tarmac and then, once in the air, the flight attendant woke Audrey up by slamming the armrest down on her little leg, I mentally tried to "unpack my patience."  Before long, we landed and I silently congratulated myself for not punching the flight attendant in the face.  First hurdle crossed.


As we got off the plane, my brother called my Dad (he'd gone up a day before us) and got the bad news that the air conditioning was out at my paternal grandparents' house, which is where we were staying.  No sweat (get it?!)  We agreed to go there first and then decide if a hotel was necessary.  By the time we wrangled the kids, got the luggage, wrangled the kids, took a bus to the rental car facility, wrangled the kids, got the car and installed the car seats (no more kid wrangling!), and fought construction traffic to the house, we decided that it was going to have to be pretty darn hot to warrant the inconvenience and expense of a hotel.


We finally pulled up to the house and caught our breath.  As we walked in and heard the sound of door brush against the wind chime that hung on the foyer light, I felt a lump form in my throat.  I hugged Dad and took a minute to block off the stairs for Audrey and Carson.  Then I took a step back, leaned against the wall, and let it sink in that neither of my grandparents were there.  They wouldn't ever be there again.  Every sight my eyes fell on was reminiscent of them.  Every smell I inhaled reminded my brain whose home I stood in.  But they were gone.  My Grandma Gaye was not about to poke her head out of the kitchen holding a dish towel or a spoon like I'd seen her do a million times before.  My Pop-pop was not sitting in his chair laughing his one-of-a-kind laugh at something on the television.  We weren't about to sit around the table, hold hands, pray, and eat one of her delicious meals.  We wouldn't get to do that this trip.  Or ever again.  I caught Dad's eye as the tears gave way and David came over and put his arm around me.


A moment passed before I snapped back into action (I'm sure it was Audrey's tugging at my leg that did the trick) and we started to formulate a plan for the evening.  The heat turned out not to be that bad (in fact, it got so chilly later that night that we needed blankets) and we elected to stay.  Jenny and I took a trip to the grocery store and got back just in time to eat delicious delivery pizza and get the kids ready for bed.


Once the little ones were asleep, we started going through things and helping my Dad pack up.  As we opened drawers and leafed through boxes, the stories started to flow.  We walked through rooms and listened as Dad told us about special pieces - the big clock he'd carefully chosen and saved up to buy them for Christmas, the beer steins from all over the world, the archery trophies, the military uniforms.  There were ornaments we'd each sent them for Christmas, souvenirs from their many trips to Hawaii, and photographs and slides spanning decades.  It was overwhelming.  We packed up a couple of boxes and fell into bed around midnight.


Around 4am, I woke up.  Suddenly the gravity of whose bed I was sleeping in (theirs) hit me full force.  We rarely went into their bedroom and now here my little family was, sprawled out all over it.  It felt strange.  I prayed and tossed and turned for almost an hour and finally fell back asleep.  Around 7am,  David and I crawled out of the room to avoid waking Audrey and met Dad in the kitchen (who knows how long he'd been awake).  We drank a cup of coffee and talked until the others woke up - Carson with the most adorable bed head ever.  Once everyone was fed, we got to work cleaning out cabinets and throwing away expired food and toiletries.


After we got ready and David returned from taking Dad to pick up the moving truck, we headed over to my mom's parents' house.  I was so excited as we pulled up and it seemed to take forever to get the kids out and walk up to the door.  (Of course we did have to haul two diaper bags, my camera bag, two backpacks full of toys, the pack n' play, and our purses from the rental van.  It must have looked like we were moving in!)  My grandmother greeted us before we could even get in the door and hugged and gushed over all of us.  It had been four years since David and I had been there and though we try to keep up through letters and not-frequent-enough phone calls, it was so nice to see them in person.  We walked in and were greeted by my grandfather, my mom, my Aunt Jill, her husband Paul, my Uncle Jim, and his son Dwayne.  We all pulled up seats and started scarfing down lunch, trying to catch up on each other's lives in between stuffing our faces.  We passed the kids around and Aunt Jill gave AJ a tour of all of the flowers in Great-Nana's garden.  Mom got out a sneezing baby doll that had belonged to Jill and cracked Carson up for a few minutes.  Audrey got a hold of it, set it on the ground, and looked like she was performing chest compressions trying to get the thing to make that funny noise again!  Before we knew it, they were ready for their naps.  We put them down in the bedrooms and enjoyed some uninterrupted conversation with the adults.  I took a minute to stroll around and snap some photos, then the kids were awake and ready for snack.


After a few quick bites, we gathered the whole clan outside and took a ton of group shots.  As is the usual, Audrey didn't smile in any that I was in and Carson grew rightfully impatient by the thousandth click (he always expresses what everyone else is feeling about my camera).  We called it quits and let them burn off their energy by running around the backyard.  It was neat to see them enjoy the same area where we had spent so many summer vacations.  As Audrey stood in one spot in particular I remember thinking, "I snapped peas right there."  (My grandfather used to have an extensive garden of vegetables...I miss the tomatoes the most.  He says he finally let the deer and the groundhogs win.)  As the sun started to set, we gathered them (and our 27 bags of stuff), said goodbye, and loaded up the van.


We arrived back at my other grandparents' house and the guys got a few things loaded just as a rain storm moved in.  After a quick dinner (where my Dad learned his lesson about giving Audrey a potato chip.  She begged him for more for the rest of the meal!) we bathed them and got them ready for bed.  Before going down, Audrey was giving out hugs and kisses (as best she knows how) and went running after Carson (whom she called "Baby" the whole trip) to give him his.  He leaned into her (his way of giving hugs) and tolerated her "Mwahh" noise.  We got them tucked in and, with very little productivity left in any of us, we sat around, ate oreos, and shared more stories of present and past.  One thing we kept bringing up was how used all of their stuff was...in a good way.  There were very few things that were put up "for special occasions".  They also didn't own a lot of super nice, fancy things.  They didn't care about fine art or expensive clothes.  What they didn't give to us, they put into living life.  As I've said before, they worked hard and played hard.  What an example.


The next morning the guys loaded the remaining boxes into the van and we said goodbye to my Dad and sent him on his way.  Not, however, before Audrey had made him her buddy and followed him around for the better part of the morning.  After he left and even once we got home, she said "Pa?" quite a lot wondering where Grandpa had gone.


After we got ready and she had woken up from her morning nap, we took a trip to the cemetery.  It was sad to see their names so boldly displayed.  I grieved at all they were missing...at all we were missing....by them being gone.  Then and now, though, God keeps bringing Psalm 84:10 to my mind, "Better is one day in Your courts than a thousand days elsewhere..."  They had a lot of really good days here, so that's saying something.  Just knowing that they are together again brings me more peace than I can describe.


We left there and headed back over to my maternal grandparents' house.  Mom made crab cakes (a must in Baltimore) and we chowed down on them and all of the leftover desserts.  When the kids went down for their naps, David and I went for a walk with my grandfather.  I loved listening to his stories and I must have asked a million questions just to keep him talking.  He spoke about everything from his construction business (I begged him to come build us a house, but he laughed me off) to his time in WWII.  Some of the things I'd heard before (he was in the Army Corps of Engineers and built bridges and roads all over Europe) and some were new (he lost his childhood best friend on D-Day).  I soaked in every word and tried to memorize his expressions, his laugh, his walk...everything about him.


When Audrey woke up, she spent more time in the garden, this time with my mom, and walked around the house with her for what must have been the equivalent of a 5K to her little legs.  I sat on the porch with Nana and talked about how much fun we'd have shopping together.  We caught up about life and talked about David's traveling and how tough it is being home alone.  She confessed she doesn't like it when my grandfather goes up to their cabin in Maine for a few days, so she couldn't imagine how I deal with weeks of his absence.  As I did with my grandfather, I tried to hang on every word and ask a lot of questions.  One of the most startling realizations was when she told me that by the time she and my grandfather were mine and David's ages, they had been through a war, been married seven years, had three kids, had just moved into a new house that he'd built himself in addition to starting his new business, and they bought a new car!  Boy, did I feel like a slacker!


As the afternoon turned into evening, we desperately tried to ignore how quickly the minutes were passing.  We walked and talked and took more pictures before heading outside to begin a long goodbye. Losing one set of grandparents certainly makes you cling a little closer to the other.  We gathered by the van and hugged, making promises about seeing each other soon that none of us knew if we'd be able to keep.  As I got into the van I looked back at my grandfather - a man whose strength I've always admired - and saw tears in his eyes.  He had told me earlier what a dream come true our visit had been for him and I can't imagine how tough it was to watch us go.  I closed the door and cried as we waved goodbye and drove away.


We ate dinner, put the kids to bed, did some more cleaning, and started packing up our tremendous amount of stuff.  David and Kevin loaded up the 8+ huge bags of trash and set out to find a dumpster to illegally dispose of it in. No trash service + lots of trash = a need for criminal activity.  They returned without a police escort.  The only problem they'd had was a small amount of chocolate syrup that had leaked on David's jeans.  Shew.  We went through pictures, talked about our visit, and climbed into bed that night anxious about the trip home.


The next morning we got ready and loaded everything into the van.  We went through the checklist that Dad had left for closing everything up (okay, truthfully, my OCD self went through it about five times).  We each posed for one last picture in front of the house and pulled out of the driveway sobered by the fact that we were leaving it for the last time.  The ride to the airport was quiet, despite my best attempt to try and find something on the radio to listen to.  David dropped us off at the airport and went to return the van while Carson pushed his cars around the benches and Audrey pushed her stroller around the empty check-in counters.  The shuttle bus dropped David off and we checked in, went through security, and found an empty gate to let the kids run and play around.  We ate lunch and, after two stores, I found toy stuffed crabs for Audrey and Carson to commemorate their trip.  We boarded the plane, took off on time, and thanked the Lord as Audrey quickly fell asleep in David's arms for the entire flight.


We landed and shuffled our crew to baggage claim.  We had made it, the kids had done way better than expected, and we were back on Confederate soil.  We hugged goodbye and parted ways, tired but all very glad that we had gone.  It was an emotional trip, but a good and necessary one.  As is the norm at her young age, Audrey will never remember it.  But the rest of us, especially her great-grandparents, will never forget it.