Someone asked our group of moms tonight, “If you had five healthy years to live, what would you do?” I was slightly surprised by the answers.
Since the beginning of our fulltiming RV life, we’ve moved an average of every other month or so. We typically travel semi locally, with longer trips sprinkled throughout the year. We are currently heading “home” from our Christmastime travels that ranged from Disney World, Kennedy Space Center, Savannah, to Atlanta. We’ve been traveling for two weeks straight and I’ve noticed something. Even though our house is with us, we continue to use this term “home”.
“When we get home…”
“It’s time to pack up and head home.”
“How much longer until we get home?”
We had some hiccups on our Christmas trip from Florida to Georgia, but we made it safely and that’s all that matters! We hope you enjoy this little teaser video and make sure to comment, like, and subscribe on our YouTube Channel for more of our videos! We hope you had an uneventful and relaxing holiday!
We were out eating dinner when my mom called…twice. Once on my phone, then once on my husband’s. She never does that, unless it’s important. Someone fell, from somewhere high, is all I can gather from my husband’s phone call with her. For the life of me, I couldn’t figure out who would fit this description as I quietly tried to decode their phone conversation. It was my grandfather. My grandfather who is completely healthy and happily pushing over 80! The guy who could probably still beat me in an arm wrestling contest! He had a fractured L1 and L2, broken/fractured pelvis, and 6 broken ribs. He would need surgery to fix the hip/pelvis and recovery would be many, many months.
As I sit here rereading my daily notecards, I’m being reminded of what life was like two years ago. The fears, concerns, and worry I was experiencing. Not knowing just how this journey was going to affect me. Would I survive the surgery? Probably, even though that is always a fear going into any major surgery. Would it be cancer? What kind of battle lay ahead if it was? Was I strong enough to fight it? Would I survive it? Those were all unknowns. Unknowns I had to sit with for many months. If it wasn’t cancer, how would I heal? How would life change afterwards? Even though this was the best scenario, there were still so many unknowns. I was petrified. I was scared to my very core.
Sitting here in an all too familiar place watching my little 6 year old in his “big boy” gymnastics class has me contemplating life. By now you’re wondering what kind of gymnastics class this is to offer such insight, right?? I promise the class isn’t as intense as it sounds and neither is the gym. But back to why I started writing to begin with. Have you sat back and really observed a child? Really watched their behavior, their excitement, their joy for…well… everything? If not, I highly recommend unplugging completely for a bit and truly taking it in.
There was a car accident just outside our campground the other day. We were out getting some laps in when we began to hear siren after siren after siren. On one lap we saw all the police officers and firetrucks out there, as I reminded him how they were there to help the people who were injured. I didn’t realize just how bad the accident was until the life flight helicopter was circling the campground and the road outside to find a place to land. Having never seen a helicopter land in the middle of the road, my son wanted to go observe.