Now onto the good stuff. I am so glad to be out of the traveling turd RV. Don’t get me wrong. I love my family. But, I could have been in that RV with Jesus and would have gotten sick of him. If my children are close enough to me at night that I can throw a shoe and hit them, it’s too tight of quarters.
We did make lots of memories, however.
Number of times I walked across this suspension bridge at the Royal Gorge: 1
Number of times I looked down between the slats at the river 1,200 ft. below wondering if that day was the day the bridge would finally collapse: 49
Number of times Ken ran into a tree and took off the passenger side mirror: 1
Number of dollars to fix the mirror: $600
Number of times I crapped in the RV: 3
Number of times we emptied the sewage and felt the warm contents moving through the hose (at least I have my Life is Good shirt on. Oh, the irony): 4
Number of miles I ran: 12
Number of mountain passes I drove over in the traveling turd (guardrails optional): 3
Number of times I threatened to put my nine year old in a time out in a camping chair with no food or water or books: 1
Number of times I actually did it: 0
Number of bottles of wine I drank: 2
Number of times I counted my blessings: 5,234
Some of my clearest and most fond memories growing up involve family vacations. My parents loved to rough it. Once we did a cross country road trip from Maryland to Montana for a month and slept in a tent the whole way. That was the trip my sleeping bag caught on fire with me in it.
I have found that the best memories are not made when everything is perfect. They are created when things don’t go quite right, when there is some challenge involved, when we move outside of our comfort zone. Our senses hold on to those experiences with an intensity that lasts throughout the decades.
Two weeks ago a friend’s mom found out she had cancer. She died this morning. I am reminded about the brevity and preciousness of life. I am reminded to hold on and to make it a wild and memorable ride. I am reminded to never let fear stop me from doing anything. And mostly I am reminded to love.
What’s your favorite/funniest childhood vacation memory?