I think it has been obvious in the past few weeks that something was not exactly right here at The Cedar Journal. My weekly blogs and kayak adventures seemed to come to a halt. Some very personal stuff entered into the picture and I am now willing to share some of that with you my readers.
First in April my Dutch father – in – law (my hubby’s father) passed away after a year long health battle. Once again our world was tossed around like a wild white water kayak or canoe ride. Violently heading in a direction but all of us unsure if we would make it through the class IV or suffer the damage of the rocks we passed. Luckily our Dutch family proceeded through the painful process with an honorable tribute to their patriarch.
We paddled, the Ablas River as we recovered from this very personal loss. We shared some of the best sleep we have had in years in our camper at our seasonal campsite.
I started my volunteer job at the historical garden in Aalsmeer. Life was good!!!
Memorial Day came and along with it another life challenge. I was approaching the 10 year death of my best friend and combat buddy and as always I really didn’t know how this Memorial Day would be for me. Would I honor his memory by Carpe Diem (one of his favorite phrases) or wire flowers to his gravesite. The day would not allow me to even think about him as I received a email from Minnesota that my mother was in emergency surgery and that her chances of making it out alive were questionable.
Shock is the only word I can use to explain the news. My mother of 72 is healthy (so I was lead to believe). She recently retired from a very industrial job and I was hoping that her and my ill health riddled father would be able to enjoy at least a small portion of these last years together as they worked so hard over the years to earn a living from labor intensive jobs. One of those was our family farm.
My parent’s treasure their privacy. To the point of being stubborn in my opinion, but they are my parents and I would not have been able to walk this current path if I had not had thier guidance and sometimes very tough love along the way. So I did what I thought was right and jumped on the next plane to Minnesota. My desire to see my mother one last time before she died.
I knew my parents would be pissed off that I came home during this personal crisis. They have always made their voices and wishes heard and understood by us, thier three children. At the age of 52 I felt I could afford seeing my mother one last time before she passed away at the risk of her wrath. Last time she was pissed off at me she didn’t talk to me for a year and a half!
That is the reason of the sudden drop off of my blog. I spent the last three weeks trying to fix a relationship that was years in the making of being broken begone repair. In the process I maybe alienated my parents even from close friends who just wanted to show their support in my parents time of need.
Well… I tried… Then I really failed!
This last Thursday as I was coming to terms with such a realization, I packed my camper, kayak, and CRV and started to head to a campground in Minneapolis, MN.
Just South of Willow River on I35 I ran off the road and hit several trees. I ended up in the emergency room, county jail, and then being admitted to a treatment program in Duluth Minnesota. An experience that has once again left me very disappointed with the American health care, justice, and interpersonal relationships.
My Dutch hubby flew in on Friday and has now more experience with the American way of handling crisis than he ever should have experienced. I thank him for his quick response and love as I can’t imagine where I would have ended up if he had not flown in to rescue me.
That is the story as of this morning. I am sitting now in one of my favorite places. Hanging Horn Lakeside Resort. It is grounding me after these last few weeks of trauma. I will live to write more adventures. I will survive and never surrender!
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