BSA Part II: V-A-C-A-T-I-O-N

Our little clan takes a road trip nearly every summer.  We  moved far from our hometowns in the midwest and, more importantly, far from our beloved families some fifteen years ago.  To make up for that atrocity, and to amuse ourselves, we all hop in the van loaded down with suitcases, camping equipment, a plethora of books, games and snacks and head North.  It is fun, a lot of fun really, but to be honest, it isn't what I call a vacation.  It is a trip.  An action packed, adventure filled trip.  We love it and I wouldn't have it any other way.  Until this year.

There was a family event that required us to be in Wisconsin by mid-June and that meant hitting the road by the end of the first week of June and that meant that sweet little Juju wasn't even going to be a month old by departure day.  Yikes.  I just couldn't accept the idea of strapping an absolute newborn into a carseat for three or four days.  The nursing---would we be stopping at every exit?  The chaos---in our van, fun usually equals varying amounts of noise and lots of polyphony;  too much for a new little one to have all the time.  The carseat---cold, hard plastic not at all resembling the loving cradle of Mother's arms.  Nope, no road trip for Juju and me.

So early Monday morning with babe in arms I walked onto an airplane having bid our adieus to the family the previous night.  We flew peacefully--so peacefully, in fact, that we both slept through the landing--all the way to our Milwaukee destination.  There we were met by sweet Aunt S and spent the first day of our vacation.  Oh, yes.  Va-ca-tion.  I haven't had a real vacation in over a decade. Maybe more.  We spent the next five days in the most generous, hospitable, loving care of my dear Aunt Nancy and Uncle David.  We visited aunts and uncles, a great-aunt, cousins and we napped.  We napped a lot.  And I finally got a good dose of baby gazing without the distractions of home--the responsibilities of home.  It was such a gift, a Godsend to just rest in the kind hands of my extended family.


By the weekend the rest of my little clan had arrived in Milwaukee and we were gearing up for Rosebud's First Holy Communion.  Such a happy and blessed day!  That Sunday was full of grace for her and all of us.  The Mass was followed by celebrations with even more of the family.

The next few days are a bit of a blur:  dinners out (hopple popple at Benji's!), children distributed and taking turns at the cousins' homes, the zoo, a pantomime show, baseball games in the rain, theater organ at a pizza parlor and so much more.  Wednesday it was time for the Prof to start the trip southward again with the children in tow.  They had many adventures ahead of them.  Juju and I, on the other hand, had a few more days of rest and recreation.  More visiting.  A trip to "the lake" for a sunny day watching the waves lapping at the rocky shoreline and one final quiet day preparing for our return home.  The visits were joyous, the entertainments excellent, but the most memorable part of this vacation were the conversations.  Deep, meaningful exchanges with wise and thoughtful people.  I came away well rested but with much to ponder.  A blessed vacation, indeed. 

Oh, and perhaps one of my most treasured moments on this sojourn:  listening to my grandparents' voices again.  My clever uncle had made a recording of them on New Year's Eve of 1994 telling stories of the early days of their marriage.  They have both since passed away. 

 Juju's little hand in her Great-Great-Aunt Doris' (my grandpa's sister)

Oh, to hear my Grandpa's laugh again, how it made my heart swell.