Port Huron
Are booming resort towns "Boomsorts?" Whatever you call them, there are quite allot of them on the U.S. lakeshores and river fronts. After 40 odd years in the boom state of Texas, I am feeling guilt pangs over wanting to add to yet another boomer to the boom. Alas, the absence of hometown to go back to doesn't leave me much choice on that one. I am an immigrant, wherever I go.
And I often believe my guilt pangs are at least as much a life-long habit as a reliable conscience meter. When my guilt pangs get to pinging, I can feel guilty on any subject. In this instance, I believe neglecting my duties in the Urban Homestead is the trigger for this round of guilt pangs. My grand kids are caught in a classic 21st century domestic shuffle, complete with government intervention. I hope it is good news that there has been open dialogue with Hubs, YS, best beloved Sis on the subject. Prayers in progress that my flaky hearing has been interpreting the cel phone diolague well. YS is possibly the most important of the dialogues just now. His recent cycle has been especially ugly and impacts the GK's. Don't mess with Gammy's GK's. . . My heart wants to make the 18 hour drive to care for them in a single push. I could be there this time tomorrow. Frequent flier in motion. . . Get out of my way, Moron. I know you can hear me through that rear windshield.
Keeping a watchful eye on my flight patterns. . .
There does seem to be an uncertain conscesus among the current dialogue that my current duties in the family cycle are at least as much "co-dependant enabling" as healthy. ?Quien sabe cual es cual? ^It^ is a complex weave of countless interactions and assumptions. Among my prayers is that all of us, together, are taking time to unlearn some bad habits. Prayers on-going. . . Holding the love sacred.
This morning I am doing laundry and preparing to head north, then west, then south and possibly north again as I follow the "Thumb" of Michigan State along Lake Huron's shore line. It remains uncertain whether I will camp or find a room. The mid-week holiday has thrown the campground demands out of kilter. Crowded campgrounds are more than Persilly and I can handle alone. The holiday is passed, but 'tis peak camping weather and then there are the bags of fireworks that didn't get used yesterday.
We see what the day holds.
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Parenting is hard. Parenting when you weren't well parenting yourself, is harder. Parenting with disabilities or disabled children can be exponentially harder yet. (My son was about 1000 times as hard to raise as my daughter. And I may be underestimating.)
I separate people into Those-Who-Understand and Those-Who-Don't.
No one is more judgmental than a parents who don't and have raised their own children well....
Hugs to all of your extended family, Patti
When you leave the crook of the thumb and head north past Tawas area, It gets a lot more rural and very green. You will be in the state forest area, from there to the bridge.
Hugs and healing travels. J.
Didn't make it as far as Tawas. I checked in at Pinconnings County Park a bit deeper in the Saginaw Bay. The guy who checked me in gave me Big Bro flashbacks. I take it as a sign that I am processing the grief of his January passing well. It was a pleasant reminder of Big Bro's untapped potential. We bantered like I imagine Big Bro and I woulda if we coulda, if only. . .
Me and my rivers. . . With all the magic of Lake Huron outside my passenger side window, I couldn't resist the urge to turn south to follow the Saginaw River as far as Saginaw City. After all the resort spots on the scenic thumb route, the Saginaw River road was a shock to my system. Where'd all these industrial compounds come from?