“You may encounter many defeats, but you must not be defeated. In fact, it may be necessary to encounter defeats, so you can know who you are, what you can rise from, how you can still come out of it.”

— Maya Angelou

It was such an overwhelming time. I think most would have felt overwhelmed at such a time in their lives. I was. I do not think I realized it at the time. Or at least I did not realize the extent of it. Too many big decisions in a short amount of time. It fries the brain. Makes it fire too quickly. Too often. I was holding it all together, but it was by a fragile piece of thread. I have a new appreciation for what people go through in times of trauma, illness, grief and uncertainty. I hope I am less quick to judge in the future and I can learn to be more empathetic. It is a difficult thing. Navigating life through the filter of shock.

I talked in the last blog about shock. Shock helps in many ways, in other ways it creates a bit of a fog. One we cannot see through. Maybe more like air pollution. You cannot always see it when you are in it. Shock helped me believe that we could make the trip alone. Like I said above though, I was overwhelmed by all that had happened since the accident. From the time of the accident to the trip home was not very long. Chris had been lucky. He had healed quickly. Complications had not plagued him. While this is a good thing. The best thing. It did not give me much time to get my bearings. Life was moving quickly. I had to keep up. I had to maintain control. I could not allow myself to get overwhelmed to the point of paralysis. So I pushed it aside. That avalanche of emotions. Then I pushed forward.

We did not know how far Chris would be able to travel each day. How many breaks he would need. It was almost 1000 kilometres of driving to get us home. We could not book campsites ahead of time. We did not know what our end destinations would be each day. We left the motor home rental place between four and five o’clock in the afternoon. By the time we pulled the rig into its parking place that night it was nine forty-five. The town we spent the night in would normally have been a one and a half-hour drive.

There were times along the journey where simple decisions caused confusion. Here is one example. One that stands out the most. As we travelled along the highway that first afternoon, we came to the entrance of a national park that we would be driving through. In order to spend the night in this park, one has to purchase a ticket for around $18.00. Not much right? Well, we or I really should say I, decided that we would not need to stay in the park and that we would carry on passed the town. Thus we did not need to buy a ticket to spend the night in the park. That was fine until we got to the town in the park and decided that we did could not go any further. Chris was tired. It had been a long day, and he was ready to rest. So was I. My brain was tired.

We drove slowly through the town. We would not be spending the night there. Tourist season was in full swing, and there were people everywhere. Enjoying their summer holidays. I wished we were one of them. They seemed to not have a care in the world. I found a quiet parking lot by the river. Chris climbed from his uncomfortable seat and moved slowly toward the solace of the bed. We were hungry by then. As he lay in the back, I stepped outside for air. To take a breath. To gather my thoughts. A restaurant would not do. He would not be able to sit long enough. It would have been hard to park the motor home in the middle of town, where I could have grabbed something healthy. So, as we were parked by the river and as I was getting swarmed with mosquitoes, I looked down the road to see what I could walk to. A gas station seemed the best option. As Chris lay on the back of the bed, and as the sun started to go down, I made the walk to the gas station. I do not remember what I bought for dinner. Probably the healthiest food I could find. It was a pretty big gas station with a fair amount of food to choose from. It was not a restaurant or a cafe though. It was something quick. Looking back, I wonder why we did not stock up on food before we hit the road into what would mostly be wilderness. I also do not understand why I did not buy a park ticket or think of staying at a hotel that first night.

So, there we were. Sitting in the motor home, eating our gas station dinner, and thinking about options. I was worried we would get in trouble if we tried to stay in the park without a ticket, though if I had of explained our situation to anyone, I am sure they would have understood. It must have been getting close to nine, as we decided we would backtrack and head to the next closest town out of the park. Luckily it was only thirty minutes back. That added an extra hour of travelling for Chris that day. He was so done. So tired. So exhausted. So, so, so. I just wanted to stay there, parked by the river. Today, I probably would have. Or at least found another place to stay in the town in the middle of a park. Instead, we pulled out and back onto the highway. Hoping we would be able to find a campsite to park our rig that late at night. Stress. Understatement. I think at the moment, I felt like a bit of a failure. Like I had let Chris down. Now, I do not feel that way. I feel sadder for me than anything. For us. Alone on the road. Headed backwards. Looking for a place to stop and lay our heads.