Carpe Diem
Once the adrenaline settles, and death recedes, and our birthdays are not front and center, will we still want to seize the day?
We had to get out of town for the showing over the weekend so I booked a small cabin in Chesapeake at what I thought was a campground but was, in fact, a massive RV park. That’s OK, I thought, as I drove through the village streets, passing some cute cabins on the river. This part is beautiful! This wasn’t, however, the part where we were staying. Cabin 29 was at the intersection of two gravel roads with a 360° view of RVs as far as the eye could see.
The cabin was so short and narrow that Greg had to back up in the hall to turn his body around in the double bed, which somehow all of us managed to cram into for an afternoon nap. I called the Ranger Station to see if we could move, but we could not so I cried and ate some blue lemonade swedish fish.
Hot and tired, I decided to venture out to the pool next to mini golf and the store that sold T-shirts and lollipops, past a thousand It’s Wine-o-Clock Somewhere and God bless the USA flags, marveling at the intricacy of each homestead with fenced-in front yards, picnic tables, grills, clotheslines and elaborate decor including a mobile snake made of dozens of painted rocks.
The pool was a benediction and after being reborn, I was able to make the frozen Chinese food I brought in the cabin in the microwave while waiting for Stan to join me so we could wait out selling our house together.
Stan had a really good attitude about the RV park, which was heartening. Somehow my husband, diagnosed with double major depression, has been the cheerleader taking the emotional lead and we had fun dog paddling around in the river, eating dinner from the Roy’s Big Burger food truck, and watching a Santa in a Hawaiian shirt pose with kids for the park’s Christmas in July theme of the week.
You’ve been doing really well lately, I pointed out, which is hopeful since we’re about to go live someplace far away alone together. Dave died at 59, he said referencing his coworker who just passed from liver cancer, shocking us all even though it was expected. My dad died at 59, too, he continued. And I realized it was time to say yes to you and yes to life.
Never had such a cheesy statement meant so much. I turned 49 last week and he was turning 54 on Monday. His impulse to buy Greg, to sell everything, to move to the country, has been a true carpe diem. But will it last? Once the adrenaline settles, and death recedes, and our birthdays are not front and center, will he still want to seize the day, make the trails, dredge the pond, buy the tractor to clear the land, and all of the other big dreams we have now? Will I? Who knows? I hope so.
We listened to a historical thriller audiobook that night in the cabin and then, releasing our hold on the past, saying yes to the future, accepted an offer on our house that came in the morning.
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