Driving Home from Maine

The past couple of days have been a whirlwind and I want to type out some thoughts on the internet before they fully float into the ethernet.

Last Friday I stopped by the rehab center to visit Dad before I left for a mission trip to Maine. There was no real reason to stop by. He and mom had spent the day traveling from Hamilton, NJ to the UPenn hospital for a meeting with his surgeon. He was given a clean bill of health. Told to keep working on his rehab to gain strength to be able to go home soon.

Still, this little voice told me to stop by before embarking on the 10 hour drive. Forgetting about his appointment in Philadelphia, I stopped by in the morning. I told mom I had popped in, and to let me know when they come back. I knew he'd be tired, but that itty bitty voice said go anyway.

He was tired, which was to be expected. I stayed about an hour, but still had to pack and get my head in the mode of driving the next day. The checklist was long ... pick up rental car, pack clothes for painting, pack clean clothes, pack tools, pack bedding for the dorm, finish a couple of things around the house so I could leave with a clear head, etc. etc. I started to leave, but turned back to give him a hug. I'd like to think I said "I love you," but maybe I only thought it. He knew.

When I heard on Wednesday morning the end was imminent I reminded my mom I made my peace a few days earlier. I left knowing it could be the last time and left anyway.

Before I left Maine, the church group wanted to "pray me out." Honestly, I was so torn. On the one hand my head was racing. Pack up room, shove stuff in car, make a sandwich for the road, grab the sandwich I packed the night before for the work site, fill a thermos with hot tea, put ice cubes in tea so I don't burn my tongue, don't lock myself out of my room (again), hand in the key, go to the bathroom one last time before heading to the car, etc. etc.

On the other hand, I knew it was right to pause. The group needed to feel like they were doing something. I needed their prayers for a safe drive home. We all needed the peace.

I let some students load the car, and allowed an adult to make me a sandwich and fill my thermos. Tasks I could have done, but part of the process is letting others do for you. After all, it was a mission trip. I didn't fully appreciate the car loading until I came home and had to unpack it myself. The sandwich I appreciated as I ate it while I drove. I thought of the love both tasks were put into those simple tasks.

I felt the peace they prayed into me as I drove. I didn't have a single hurdle until I hit New Jersey at rush hour. After stopping at the first bathroom break on the Garden State Parkway the GPS asked if I wanted to take a faster route with tolls. Umm, I was already on the Parkway which has tolls, but sure.  

It asked a second time, right after I paid a toll.

Curious, I said, sure.

Rather than letting me stay on the Parkway to the New Jersey Turnpike (or to I-95), it routed me to Route 17 in Paramus, down some back roads, to Route 4, to Route 80, to the Turnpike.

It was the John Koetting This is Your Life Tour.

As I drove to the last house he lived in (Robbinsville), the path took me near the home where he raised us (Paramus), past Teterboro Airport where he worked for four decades, and near Hasbrouck Heights where he grew up, and near Little Ferry where he and mom lived when they were first married. On the drive I saw a train (albeit Amtrack and not a freight train) and had airplanes fly overhead as I passed Newark Airport. 

What a tribute!

How did the GPS know I needed the (slightly slower) route past these sights?

I cried most of the drive home. I heard bits and pieces about his last day. He didn't wake up on Tuesday. Sent to the hospital Tuesday night for emergency surgery. If he survived, he would be on a ventilator while he healed. I didn't like the word if, but I was told to wait until the morning to hear the update. No one wanted me driving 10 hours in the dark. After surgery he was stable. At 6 am on Wednesday he was stable. At 6:30 he was not. 

Mom, Don, Ashley, Melissa, Chris, Hayden, and Aimee gathered around his bed to say good-bye. Rebecca and Danny arrived a few moments later and said their good-byes. I continued to drive. And cry.

People at home were worried about my driving so long. Honestly, I didn't have any issues. Those prayers really worked.    

Not sure how to weave this in, but I stopped at the halfway point to visit with NCB (New Cousin Barbara). Her grandmother was raised by my great-grandparents (or maybe even great-great grandparents) on my dad's side. I refer to her as my ancestry.com relative. She enveloped me in a hug and gave me the break I needed, as well as some ice cubes because I didn't put enough in my thermos after all.