Road Trip - Memory Trip

I need birth certificates for my sons next week.

Sounds simple enough.

And before, I would have known exactly where they would be.

In my “important” folder.

Which was kept in the house in which I am now living.

That way, it was safely in our “retirement house” and didn’t get moved around with all of the 

parsonage moves and never got “misplaced.”

But now, well, now is just different.

I just can’t even begin to remember where it is.

I had it right after Rob died – because I needed all of those important items like birth certificates and social security cards to apply for the death benefits that my kids would receive (until age 18) from their dad’s social security.

So I retrieved it from this house and took it to where I was living then.

I carried that folder, along with the just purchased file box containing Rob’s death certificate, will, and estate papers, to the Social Security office a little over a week from when Rob died.

I came home from that appointment – emotionally drained, depleted of energy, sad, lonely, overwhelmed by the loss my children had gained and would be burdened to carry for the remainder of their lives, and just in a state of overall sorrow.

I set the file down on my then desk.

And that’s the last time I remember seeing it.

In the last house.

9 months before we moved out of it.

I know it’s somewhere.  I’m sure it wouldn’t have gotten thrown away.  Pretty sure it got mistakenly packed with all of the bulletin and newsletter stuff on the desk that I knew I would not need for a long time – if ever again at all.

And since I don’t relish the thought of digging into my storage buildings yet, it’s just easier to slowly rebuild my “important” file – as needed.

When I needed Anna’s birth certificate in March 2013 for something she was involved in, I drove to the county where she was born to get a couple of copies. 

I also got copies of Crystol’s and Rob’s since they were all born in the same county.

A gasp and silent tears accompanied the sight of Rob’s birth certificate as the clerk handed it to me – 

she didn’t warn me that the word

“DECEASED,”

in capital letters,

would be superimposed over the entire document.

It’s not like I didn’t know he was dead.

But seeing the “legalness” of the circle of his life on this earth – the beginning and the end – with the ending so largely printed in red letters over all of the facts of his birth –

was literally breathtaking.

When Anna needed her social security card to register for college (because there was a typo error on her application and we had to prove her identity), we went to the Social Security office and ordered a duplicate one.

(Just for your information and something good to know  – you are limited to 10 Social Security cards in your lifetime – not including name changes such as marriage, etc).

Now that I need birth certificates for my sons by next week, I had to drive to the county where they were born, 2 ½ hours from where I live, to get them.

(Another good thing to know that I found out yesterday – in some counties in the state where I live, you can now get copies of birth certificates for persons born in other counties if both counties participate in whatever the program is called – which all of the counties I needed for my children do.  The copies cost more that way but it would have been worth it if I had known in time for me to have that one-stop shopping option!).

So since I had to make this trip, I thought I would make a day of it.

I tried to plan taking my kids to see my brother and his family (who live in that county not far from where I needed to go) but my brother and sister-in-law were going to be working and my nieces and nephew were going to all be with their caretaker at their school open houses meeting their new teachers.

So I left before Anna got home from class and Wesley didn’t want to go just to be in the car for 5 hours.  I don’t blame him.  

My sister and her husband live a little over an hour into the trip to where I needed to go.

It is my Luke’s turn to go spend a couple of nights with them.

All of my kids LOVE going to stay with Joan and Scot.

And since Luke had missed his earlier in the week opportunity to go because he had been sick, I called Joan and arranged to drop him off at her house on my way to get the birth certificates.

Luke and I started the day with a stop to get some cereal, chocolate milk, and junk food for him to take with him to Joan and Scot’s.

After we got back in the car, Luke’s exact words were,

“I’m happy.  Thank you, Mama, for taking me to Joan’s.”

He also told me thank you for buying him junk food to take with him.

He told me he would miss me... 

...and I miss him...

...but he was thrilled to get to stay!

I then continued my trip to collect what was needed.

It was a beautful drive there and back.

I called and talked with Rob's mom for almost an hour.

I called and talked with a couple more people too.

I love the courthouse. I love old buildings with lots of intricate details.

And the process of obtaining the birth certificates was easy

but looking at Rob's name on them was not.  

Just as it was when I went to get Anna’s birth certificate, it was hard.

 It's still difficult for me to think of my kids

being fatherless. 

And being in that town was bittersweet.

Driving by the OB/GYN office where I had the ultrasounds that showed we would have our first son and then our second son 2 ½ years later.

With Wesley’s ultrasound, I looked over at Rob and said,

“Oh Rob, you’re going to have a son.”

Rob LOVED his girls but he was thrilled to be blessed with a boy…

…and then another one!

Driving by the hospital where I labored and gave birth to my sons 

and where Rob was very first hospitalized when Wesley was just a newborn.

Driving by the building where both of my sons and I had to have surgeries –

a lumpectomy for me when I was 5 months pregnant with Wesley

(thank God it ended up benign), 

some toe surgery for Wesley when he was around 3,

and tubes for Luke’s ears when he was a little over 1.

Driving by the area where Crystol lived when she was in college there

(this town was where she met her then future husband, Alan).

Driving by the area where I went to chorus concerts, inductions, Master level hooding ceremonies, pinning ceremonies, and graduations for Crystol, my brother, and my sister-in-law.  There are many degrees between the 3 of them.

Being in the town where my Rob was ordained an elder in full connection in the United Methodist Church at its Annual Conference.

Being in the town where my dad formally retired from the United Methodist Church 

at its Annual Conference. 

Lots of memories accompanied this trip to get birth certificates. 

I didn’t summon the memories. 

They just arrived. 

That’s the way my mind works.

Most of them made me smile.

  

It’s only the 2^nd time I’ve been to that town since Rob died. 

And even though we never lived in the town itself 

(we lived in the same county but 30 minutes away), 

we spent so much time there and so many monumental things happened there,

it’s like visiting one of the places where “we” were.

When there’s no longer a “we” to remember it with.

And that is hard.

Because even with all of the happy memories that parade through my mind, the ending is always the same – he is dead and he is not here to be my husband.  

He is not here to be our children's father.

But I am still ever so grateful that I have those memories.

They are all cherished.

And interwoven into the life we are living now.

I never forget that he is dead.

But I also never forget that I’m alive.

I never forget that I am a widow and alone.

But I also never forget that, for now, I still have 3 children at home who keep me company.

I never forget that our children are fatherless.

But I also never forget that they are happy and well-adjusted in spite of that fact.

And even though every single memory of our past life - even the good ones - 

lead to the same ending that Rob is dead, 

I am thankful that I was blessed to live the life to have made them to begin with.

And my road trip yesterday was a good reminder of that.