My first mistake was eating an apple the morning of graduation. The fiber did not bode well to say the least. Fortunately I had chosen to drive with his grandparents (please read this soaked in the sarcasm it was heavily dipped in), as my body's defiance forced me to ask them to pull over several times. Finally, I just let the ugly truth spill out and told it to them straight. And that's when it hit me, what I had become: it wasn't but 11 days ago that I was the beautiful new bride who was given the name that this very couple gave to their son who passed it on to my husband to entrust to somebody... and he had chosen me. What a divine inheritance of much celebration and harmony... but the music died and now I'm the girl in the back seat with the runs! (Of course all of this was in my mind, birthed from insecurities; in actuality, his grandparents were mind blowingly understanding and fabulous). Now, I could go on with all of the gory details about how I physically couldn't sit up straight during the entire graduation ceremony, how I had to leave the auditorium so I could go lay on the grass just to feel a moment or two of relief, how graduation lunch was spent only a piece of bread as my body would allow nothing else, or how a carload of people had to end the festivities early to get me home quicker as the sight of my sickness was like (to quote pitch perfect) an elephant dart to the face of all who saw me... but I'll bypass those little stories to present the real issue at hand: we were 10 hours away from our mega road trip: 15 hr driving day, followed by another 15 hr driving day, followed by a 7 hr drive. I could hardly stand the 2 and a half that was just given to me, how was this marathon supposed to work?
So, Zach and I had to decide: Was I going with him or not? The night of graduation, we came home to finish packing the truck. (And I use the term "we" as loosely as you can when married.... my mom, dad, and Zach finished loading, while I sat fetal position on my brothers bed.) Zach brought it to his house to seal the deal and say good bye as I followed him an hour later with my car to be hitched to the back. Driving up in my car and nearly rolling out of the drivers seat while barely managing to lift my head as I muttered a goodbye... only to roll in the back of his grandma's car and lay down offered us the answer we had been looking for. There was no way I could do it.
And that's how our adventure started. Without me.
I told Zach and I couldn't go and because we had scheduled no wiggle room for an event such as this, he had no choice but to leave Atlanta the next morning and head to the West Coast. To use his words "Mom, all I know is that at 6 am tomorrow, I have to be in that car come diarrhea or high waters." I know he didn't want to leave me behind but duty calls. And so the next morning, he left for Cali with his dad and I went to the ER with my mom.
In my mind, I had it going a bit morning romantically. I mean, he and I had been anticipating this adventure since the phone call of his med school acceptance. We had a cooler packed, Dad bought a gadget that allowed us to stream music from our iphones to the radio, my little brother Evan, had made us 8 road trip CD's, Zach's mom packed us a cooler of all our favorite goodies, and Zach downloaded 21 hours of a Harry Potter audio book. We were set! And I don't care how much you loathe unpacking and moving boxes, no girl would trade that for a gown that shows your butt, hours and hours of freezing cold rooms, and handing over a stool sample that looks identical to the 7 viles of blood the doctors already took. Which, sidenote: turns out I had dysentery. Thanks Mexico! 'Preciate it.
Anyway, it turned out to be full of blessings, despite the two days of agony. As a result, Zach's Dad, Coachie, was able to drive out with him and help him drive the truck. Not only that, he was able to help with the unloading, help set up, and help fix house before he flew out. Zach's schedule did not allow for him to do such things and so we would have been without for much longer without Coachie's help. On the other end of things, my mom was able to fulfill her duties as being my primary car taker one last time before Zach took over. She was able to come home from work and check on me, bring me drinks and food when I needed them, remind me to take my medicine, bring me blankets, and all the other nurturing things she had done for me for 23 years. And my dad was able to take me to the airport to send me off. He tenderly parked the car and walked me in all the way to security like he would have done when I was 10 and I was his little girl... because I may not be 10 but I definitely am still his little girl.
Now I'm not saying that if I wrote the chapters, I wouldn't have bypassed some of the pain, but that four day tornado was a whole lot sweeter than it was disastrous, which sang it's own kind of hallelujahs.
And that's how our adventure started. Without me.
I told Zach and I couldn't go and because we had scheduled no wiggle room for an event such as this, he had no choice but to leave Atlanta the next morning and head to the West Coast. To use his words "Mom, all I know is that at 6 am tomorrow, I have to be in that car come diarrhea or high waters." I know he didn't want to leave me behind but duty calls. And so the next morning, he left for Cali with his dad and I went to the ER with my mom.
In my mind, I had it going a bit morning romantically. I mean, he and I had been anticipating this adventure since the phone call of his med school acceptance. We had a cooler packed, Dad bought a gadget that allowed us to stream music from our iphones to the radio, my little brother Evan, had made us 8 road trip CD's, Zach's mom packed us a cooler of all our favorite goodies, and Zach downloaded 21 hours of a Harry Potter audio book. We were set! And I don't care how much you loathe unpacking and moving boxes, no girl would trade that for a gown that shows your butt, hours and hours of freezing cold rooms, and handing over a stool sample that looks identical to the 7 viles of blood the doctors already took. Which, sidenote: turns out I had dysentery. Thanks Mexico! 'Preciate it.
Anyway, it turned out to be full of blessings, despite the two days of agony. As a result, Zach's Dad, Coachie, was able to drive out with him and help him drive the truck. Not only that, he was able to help with the unloading, help set up, and help fix house before he flew out. Zach's schedule did not allow for him to do such things and so we would have been without for much longer without Coachie's help. On the other end of things, my mom was able to fulfill her duties as being my primary car taker one last time before Zach took over. She was able to come home from work and check on me, bring me drinks and food when I needed them, remind me to take my medicine, bring me blankets, and all the other nurturing things she had done for me for 23 years. And my dad was able to take me to the airport to send me off. He tenderly parked the car and walked me in all the way to security like he would have done when I was 10 and I was his little girl... because I may not be 10 but I definitely am still his little girl.
Now I'm not saying that if I wrote the chapters, I wouldn't have bypassed some of the pain, but that four day tornado was a whole lot sweeter than it was disastrous, which sang it's own kind of hallelujahs.
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