Author Archives: blakesontheroad

June 19, 2017

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I kept seeing those days getting marked off on the calendar and June 19th was inching closer. With each giant X Henry drew, my anxiety and excitement grew.  Was I crazy? I swung between “this is a horrible idea” to “this will be amazing” until the day finally came and the car was packed. We left on a Monday morning not to return for six whole weeks. That is a long time away without the comforts and safety of HOME and my partner. Once you get on the road though, something inside you just changes.

Our first week on the road took us from Oregon to Wyoming with stops in Boise, Craters of the Moon NP, Arco, Yellowstone NP, Grand Tetons NP, Dubois, and Rock Springs.

I will say more about these beautiful spaces we passed through another time. This bit is about the places my mind passed through. Anger. Resentment. Love. Jealousy. Joy. Disappointment. From the first day I started counting the time and miles until I saw my Dad. 16 days. 2500 miles.

I grew up with two broken people as parents. Neither one of them healed or even on a path to figure it out. After my parents spilt when I was seven, my mom took first place for most disappointing parent. I kept her there on that pedestal until my dad passed. She bore most of my anger and bitterness and caused so much hurt that I just never took her down. She has her own story for another time. This trip is how I started to see that my dad was broken too. I never thought he was perfect, but I had cooked up quite the nice and neat story in my head and made him the hero. I had erased memory and altered history to make it so. Because honestly I had to in order to survive. To live through the really hard parts of my mom and her disease.

Week one of this trip was filled with an onslaught of conflicting feelings and memories. I started to see cracks in the story. Lots of “holy shit” mumbled under my breath. Things happen when you become a parent. You start comparing your parenting to that of your childhood. You start reliving memory. You often have to reparent a very under cared for part of yourself in order to properly parent your own child. I saw more of the ways that my dad was not the character I wrote him as. I also had to start preparing for the very real in person goodbye that would happen soon.

This is the real stuff of life. We are not all pretty pictures in scenic places. There is a real life that happens behind the scenery. We are anxious parents vigilantly keeping our kid safe and free at the same time. We are daughters grieving what we thought we had. We are adventurers who would sometimes rather be home. Tucked away.

This first week, I saw my son bloom. Seeing the great wide open through his eyes broke me clean through. I knew then that I would never stop breaking for him. I would never stop healing either. Not until the work was done. This long drive to say goodbye was a big first step.

Every warm ray of sunshine and inhale of sweetgrass is etched in my mind, from Portland to Rock Springs. Favorite moment of that week. Sitting in some grass on the sideline at the local Friday night rodeo in Dubois, WY. Listening to the sounds of strangers and hearing my kid laugh at the craziness of it all.

Craters of the Moon NP
Craters of the Moon NP

What Really Happened…

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Nearly five years ago I posted about a wonderful idea for an adventure with my then six year old son. We would take a large portion of the summer to travel slowly down to Texas(where I grew up) and back again. I had all the intentions of posting weekly about our adventures and it being a type of diary of that trip if nothing else.

Here is what really happened though. The more I started planning that trip and then the first day of the journey came, I realized what the trip actually was for me. It was a chance, the last one, to go and say goodbye to my dad. My dad’s health had been on the decline for many years and visiting him or really having any relationship with him had been complicated for even longer by his wife. All of this hit me when that first bit of empty road with nothing but hills for miles stretched out before me. I felt it in my gut and my trip suddenly became so much more than I had designed. It became a slow crawl towards a goodbye. It became miles and days of inner work and questions and anger mixed with the joy of discovering beauty and nature with a six year old Henry.

What I would love to do after all these years and so much processing(especially in the last two years) is really talk about this trip and my dad. I also want to share what it is like to spend six weeks on the road with a very insightful and inquisitive kid. Tomorrow marks the third anniversary of my dad’s passing and so this has felt like the time to finally start this project. Maybe some others will read this and find solace or maybe this is for me and my family. Either way I am ready to write.

I still miss my dad. I still struggle with all the complications of his loss and the lack of closure. I am still really mad at all that he did to hurt me. Grieving is hard.

Circling the Sun While Sheltering at Home

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What is the sum of 44 years? Do we measure in possessions or job titles or passport stamps or likes on social media? I have been thinking about this all week since turning another year older on Monday.  Without the birthday experiences that have become tradition over the years this one left me a little sad, but also asking these questions. I think we all may be asking ourselves hard questions during this time.

I am hoping my years are measured on the following.

The number of times I have laughed so hard I cried (and cried so hard I laughed).

The number of hours I have spent fully in my body dancing and dancing and dancing.

All the hands I have held in friendship, love, grief, joy, solidarity, defiance, and protection.

The numerous live concerts I have been to, big or small, or just me and that other soul sharing their music with me. How lucky I have been to have so so so many beautiful musicians in my life.

The number of meals too high to count around tables or on blankets or on couches or around campfires shared with others where we became family.

The times I was brave enough to share myself wholly and not hold back. Letting others see the real me.

The hours spent listening to the voices of friends who needed to be heard or sitting in silence or grief.

The time spent hiking and sitting and swimming, exploring what is the greatest gift on our beautiful Earth.

The long and short hours of motherhood.

The stacks upon stacks of books full of poetry, other worlds and places explored, and lessons learned.

The beauty of art I have seen with my eyes and soul from ancient masters, modern day geniuses, and child’s hands.

The lines and scars on my face and body that say I have been here working and being and experiencing.

The countless kisses.

The time of prayer and meditation – my back and forth with the Divine.

The miles and hours of long drives down old roads with windows down and music up – the smell of woods or desert or mountains or sea drifting in.

In the end these are the sum of my years. I am a visual person, so this week for my birthday I went out into nature and made myself something that represented all of this. Gathering up all the bits and pieces of who I am and have been and will be in the coming year. Pulling in all together in a prayer for wholeness.

UNADJUSTEDNONRAW_thumb_5c7d

 

There and back again.

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Okay, I have been dreaming. I mean big dreaming. For a long time. I love planning road trips. Especially long and challenging ones. This little bit of sand idea in my head has been kicking around for years and has finally formed a pearl. This summer I am going on a road trip with my six-year-old boy for six weeks. We are headed to my native Texas and back. Taking our time to explore.

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Along the way we will see fifteen national parks/monuments. On the list are Craters of the Moon, Yellowstone, Grand Teton, Dinosaurland NM, Rocky Mountain, Capulin Volcano NM, Big Bend, Guadalupe Mountains, Carlsbad Caverns, White Sands, Saguaro, Joshua Tree, Yosemite, Lassen Volcanic, and Crater Lake.

I could not be more excited to get on the road with my boy. I have tried to instill in him a love for adventure since he was very little. In part dreaming of trips like these and also in the hopes that it creates in him a love of nature and the beautiful world we live in.

Years ago, ten to be exact, B and I went on a month-long road trip that started this blog. One thing that I loved about that trip was all the people from different places we met and saw along the way. Sometimes being in one place too long you start to feel unraveled from the tapestry of the world. You ask how am I really connected to those far away? Meeting people on the road weaves you back in and you start to see the whole picture again. You hear their story and what brought them and you to this same point in time. I cannot wait for Henry to meet new people and see old friends and family.

B and I are so lucky to have a jobs that allow us to follow our dreams.  I can do my work on the road while he gigs on the weekends. The big plan for B is to finish another album while I am away this summer. He will have a quiet house to make noise in with no interruptions.  Midway through the trip he will fly to meet us in Austin. We will show Henry where we lived and feel in love and were married.  In truth, the roots of where he comes from. These trips are never without their challenges. There will be days where both of us are done and homesick. But I hope to remain focused on the positive and rich experience of it in the end.