Driving in the rain

We began our camping trip today.

We were told at a marriage seminar years ago that if you want to improve your relationship, go camping.

The speaker said that all sorts of things go wrong when people go camping and you learn how to handle problems together and how to stick together during tough times. Plus, you get the bonus of lots of hair-raising stores to tell once you get home! There’s nothing like camping to bring a family together!

We’ve needed some time away and together more than ever lately. We need to get away from the everyday rituals (not that there’s anything “regular” about our days as of late) and refocus on who we are as a family and how we’re going to move forward from now on.
We originally planned this trip before we ever left for China in the fall. We knew we’d have limited funds for a family vacation this year due to the adoption expenses, but we didn’t want to eliminate important family time. The boys were very enthusiastic about the idea of a camping trip even though our last trip included flooding, a tornado and even breaking camp early because mom developed a slipped disk. Somehow, amidst all the chaos, fun apparently was had by both boys.

It took awhile to decide if the trip would still be worth it without our entire family in physical attendance, but we decided that we probably needed a camping trip this year more than ever.

So, Saturday we set out.

As we drove dark clouds grew on the horizon. There was some beautiful, blue, clear sky to the left and dark, ominous, completely overcast skies to the right. Cody said, “Oh, let’s go there (indicating the left area). It’s clear and dry over there.” But Tony said, “No, our destination is to the right.” Cody responded, “But why? It's so much nicer over there!” Tony answered, “I’m sorry, our camp ground was set in advance and it’s apparently experiencing some bad weather right now. Hopefully, it will blow over by the time we get there.”

Then the rain hit.

It came in huge sheets of large, plump rain drops. We were ambushed with such intensity that Tony’s concentration was stretched to its full capacity. Semi trucks roared by throwing buckets of water on the windshield and obscuring the road with spray. The volume was so intense that that the wipers couldn’t even keep up. It took every ounce of strength to keep the steering wheel straight and Tony had to strain with all his concentration to peer through the walls of water. Eventually, he had to ask everyone to stay quiet because even the smallest amount of added stimulus increased the risk of the whole system failing and the car careening off into a ditch.

At that very moment I realized that I had finally found a more perfect analogy for what every day of my life is now like.

Driving is easy and usually driving on the highway is so monotonous that I risk being lulled asleep at the wheel. But when a storm hits, staying on the road, remaining within my lane and limiting my risk of running off the road takes every bit of energy I can muster. Distractions are irritating, unmanageable and potentially deadly.

It’s not that I can’t go on or even that I’ve lost the will to live; it’s just that every moment is so much more exhausting than it used to be. It’s like I’m continually driving in the rain. It’s still driving and I haven’t forgotten how to do it, but it’s so much more difficult now. There are no mundane or easy days anymore. I’m not crying constantly or continually agonizing over my grief, I’m just driving in the rain. Every step takes all my concentration and time and energy and focus.

There are times when the rain is light and gentle and I even like to listen to the memories that tap on the roof top. Those times are nice. The little sprinkling of raindrops on the windshield clears away the dirt and even helps to see things a little more clearly. The cool breeze that eases the humidity when the temperature drops and the wind as it combs back the grass along the highway in waves are sweet experiences.

But as the sky blackens my fingers whiten around the steering wheel because I know what’s coming. The thunder rumbles and with a single crack the skies let loose. Sometimes there’s a few minutes warning and other times it just comes crashing down before I even have time to run for cover.

And then I’m stuck driving in the rain.

Images of Nick with wires and hoses coming out every orifice get thrown in my face by a passing truck. Mirages of him in future events that I thought would be pass by smiling and laughing and mist out in front of me blurring my view confusing my perception of what’s to come. Guilt over not hugging him goodbye – not even turning around to watch him jump out of the car for the last time – cascade down the windshield in heavy sheets from the roof. I turn on the wipers of activity, engaging in relationships, self-forgiveness, bible study – to name a few – but if the rain is heavy enough they have no effect.

I can see the clear skies off to the side, but I know that’s not where my road is going. I know my destination was planned in advance. I don’t have the benefit of knowing how far or how long, but I know it’s planned, under control and has a destination that I will thoroughly enjoy. I actually can’t wait to get there! But for now, there’s a storm – and I’m stuck driving in it.