Back in January, through something short of a miracle, we won a contest. The prize was a week long cabin stay at any Virginia State Park of our choice. We ended up choosing Natural Tunnel State Park and celebrated the anniversary of Charlie’s NICU discharge there last week. It was the vacation I hoped for and desired. So much so, that I’m bitter about being back.
My husband and I decided to disconnect from our lives. Other than using the visitor center’s wifi to upload pics and respond to a few tweets, we were out of contact. It was a marvelous escape.
I countered phone calls, emails, and text messages from doctor’s offices, therapists, and the like (whom can be surprisingly persistent over trivial matters) with the simple message “On vacation, will return on Saturday.” I did not have to answer questions from people such as, “Is she eating yet?” or “Isn’t she really small for two?” Nor, did I have to politely listen to unsolicited advice.
It was exceptionally quiet. I love quiet.
The area was extraordinarily beautiful and rich in history. The first few days we explored every inch of the park. Charlie went swimming, my husband went fishing, and I went hiking with our dog. We played on the playgrounds, rode the ski lift to the Natural Tunnel, and climbed up to Lover’s Leap. Charlie found a trail marker with a “2” on it and she stood over it saying, “Two, two, two, two, two…” We had to pull her away to finish the hike.
Later, we ventured over to nearby Wilderness Road State Park. We poked around the historic area with the fort and talked to the period actors. Charlie liked the blacksmith. She exclaimed “Whoa!” when the bellows blew sparks and said, “Ding!” each time he hammered. Wilderness Road had a really nice playground but Charlie preferred playing in the natural play area.
Towards the end of the week, we visited Southwest Virginia Museum State Park which was also near by. (For those who are counting, that makes 28 out of 36.) The museum was filled with artifacts from the area. Charlie liked the interactive exhibits. She repeatedly played the same track about spiritual music. Fortunately, we were the only ones touring the mansion at the time.
After the museum, we went to Bark Camp Lake. The lake was lovely. However, we did not get to stay long because Charlie had an issue. She would not let go of my leg and screamed, “Mommy, mommy, mommy!” We assumed she was just tired and headed back to the cabin for a nap. But, we realized later that her stomach was bothering her.
We wrapped up our week by riding the ski lift and revisiting the Natural Tunnel. We retraced our favorite sights and activities.
There were moments that don’t fit into this narrative such as rocking on the back porch while watching a quick down pour. Or, cooking out with friends (during the couple of nights they joined us) until late in the evening. And, gazing at the most stars I had ever seen each clear night.
After a week like that, I am fighting back tears now that we are home. It’s not so much being home that is upsetting because we live in another beautiful area of the state.
Instead, it’s the thought of returning to our normal. Back to arguing with insurance, back to navigating a confusing and overwhelmed medicaid waiver system, back to answering people’s questions about Charlie, back to patiently nodding at unsolicited advice, back to therapists making unrealistic home therapy suggestions, and back to sitting in countless doctors’ offices.
I live a strange polarity. I detest many of the things in my daily life. However, I wake up each morning so grateful for the life I have.