Throwback Thursdays- June 2015 – San Antonio

Now let me continue our insane summer adventure from Part 1 cause it’s just getting started… πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚

So we left Nashville with the Busa Crew and headed home, finally making it somewhere around 3am. I took a short nap, we repacked and headed off to San Antonio. Remember with 2 puking children. No worries, soon after the trip began, Mr Littlest and Missy were not alone in their misery, BabyGirl joined in on the fun. I called and let them know what we were dealing with so they could figure out sleeping arrangements.

The first part of the trip wasn’t to horrible. We stopped every 2 hours or so for potty, trash can emptying and cleanups. I left prepared with plenty of snacks and drinks. πŸ˜‰βœŠ At one point, almost to Greenville, something told me to get off the interstate to get lunch and gas even though it was earlier than planned. The sky was looking crazy and fighting to do that in a rainstorm didn’t sound fun. Good thing to because the interstate was shut down outside of Greenville. That little voice popped up again, get off the interstate. So I did.

Lesson learned – listen to that voice even if it doesn’t make logical sense at the moment.

We crawled on the access road for about 30 min to find out all the roads were flooded and closed. A K turn became a 15 point turn trying to turn the beast of a vehicle on a tiny country access road around. No data signal, spotty call reception. And no clue how to get around the city. Finally got a call out to Mr to find me a new route. While he’s looking I asked a nice older gentleman who pointed me in the right direction. It was only a few hour detour north and around to Dallas through some pretty country scenery.

Couple hours past Dallas, I pulled into a truck stop, parked us with the 18 wheelers, hung up some sheets and blankets over the windows, piled up bags between the front seats and laid my butt across it for some sleep. πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚ Exhausted didn’t describe my state. Delirious may have been an appropriate term by that point.

The next morning we finally made it. Have I told yall what amazing awesome Travelers our children are? Seriously I don’t think I could have asked for a better bunch to go with my wanderlust self. They are so adaptive and portable and just roll with whatever adventures we come across in our journeys. They had been in the van for a combined 30 driving hours in a 72 hour period. The bigs helping the younger sick ones when needed so I could drive and not have to double the times we did pull over. Had to brag on them for a minute. πŸ˜‰

We spent the first day doing last minute prep and hanging out with family. Then the hard day began.

This was the first time I had to deal with a close death up close and personal. But I had a focus. Make it not scary for the children, be strong for my sister and dad. Easy peasy. Mostly. Until the service. Grandma’s church had a lovely lunch for the family before the service. It was nice to be loved on during the crazy emotional ups and downs. As the preacher started talking, I began to lose it. The drive to the cemetery was long but a welcomed break in between crying sessions. Then more tears. Beautiful service for a lovely lady.

She may have entered my life when I was 7 but she never made me feel less than part of the family. Never using the word “step”. And funny enough, a few of the cousins found out for the first time that week that we weren’t bio. That’s how inclusive she was from the very begining. Family was always #1 for her. Long talks on the porch. Stories. Always lots of stories. A gem she was.

A couple of days later we met up with my bio dad and visited the ranch we lived at before. Driving around after so much had changed in life was surreal. It was so familiar but so different. I had changed much in those few years. We spent a few hours playing Ingress. Like always, shocked there were so many amazing places we had passed a million times yet had no idea was there! Then we started the uneventful drive back home, from the whirlwind to a few days of rest and processing.

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