There’s Power in a Posse

Jeanna G1 Comment

Growing up I had a field behind my house. I loved that field. My imagination and I used to run wild in that field. Then a company bought the field and turned it into a condominium complex. I was resentful until the day I was walking through and met Nicole. I slept at her house that very same night. (What moms would allow that these days?!) And then she and I ran wild through the complex together.

When she moved to town, I introduced Nicole to my other friends. They were my posse, and together we celebrated birthdays and achievements, attended parties and sleepovers, supported each other through heartbreaks and losses, and got into a lot of shenanigans.

I also had my teammates. Sports create a unique bond among teammates. Every day we were working as a unit. We would cheer together, cry together, push each other, and pick each other up. We were sweaty and gross together. We knew each other’s moods, moves, and motivations. We supported each other’s superstitions and routines. We lost as a team, and we triumphed as a team. And together, when we left the field, we got into a lot of shenanigans.

But then we all graduated and split up. Some of us kept in touch, but I moved out of state and didn’t, and still don’t, live close to any of them. I didn’t play sports in college. Instead, I worked. The group of people I hung out with were my coworkers. For those of you who have worked in restaurants, you know what kind of lifestyle that can create. And because I wanted to be in a group, I chose that lifestyle.

Fast forward twelve years, and I was still living that lifestyle. But I was very tired and wanted a change. My go-to solution to making a change had been to pack up and move. The problem was, everywhere I went, I was still in the same place. But I moved again anyway. Although this time, something finally did change: I had a baby. And, although some people don’t consider that a reason to change, I do. So I did. I wasn’t yet sure on the details, but I knew the change had to be profound. So, despite my desire to be in a group, I chose to be alone, because if my daughter’s new life was going to be one she deserved, I needed a new life, too. It was time to get to know myself again, and it was time to start listening for God again.

And so, for four years, I was alone. I worked and I was a mom. I had acquaintances, and I joined a church, but I didn’t have a group of friends like I did before going off to college. But I was fine, because raising my daughter and getting to know my new self were more important. There wasn’t much energy or time leftover anyway.

And then one day I received an invitation to a play date. I was hesitant, but I went. And just like that, I was welcomed into a group of moms. Honest moms who have no problem airing their grievances or admitting when they screw up. This group of women have become my team, my posse. We continue to get to know each other while learning more about ourselves. We build each other up and put each other in check. We laugh with and at each other. And we cry with and for each other.

I needed time alone. I needed to work on my new self and make sure that both my daughter and I got off on the right foot. But this group came along at just the right time. I missed having a tight-knit group of friends like I did as a child. I just didn’t realize how much I missed it until I was in it.

I hope my daughter doesn’t get lost along the way, but if she does, I hope she remembers that she is never really alone, because God is always with her. And while I hope my daughter learns the value of autonomy, I hope she also finds herself in a posse of friends who share mutual trust, admiration, and support. And together, I hope they run wild, and get into a lot of shenanigans.

Family Road Trips

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Thanks to my friend’s family plan, I’ve been enjoying a lot of Spotify’s playlists lately. The Classic Road Trip Songs playlist is a great one, and it got me thinking about road trips I’ve taken. My daughter and I have been on countless road trips together, many to the beach, but few to the same place twice. Growing up in a house with seven people did not make packing up and taking off easy to do. Nevertheless, we did manage to pile into the Suburban and get out of dodge once in awhile.

The earliest family road trip that I can remember was to Prince Edward Island, a province of Canada. It is an 11-hour drive from our hometown. My brother had been at band camp in Maine, so we picked him up and continued on to PEI. I was only 5 years old, so my memories are faint. I do remember that it was absolutely beautiful there. I remember steep red cliffs and splashing about in shallow tide pools. I watched my brother pull a large crab out of the water with his bare hands. He also sat on my teddy bear’s head causing her eye to pop off. That led to the first of several eye surgeries for her. He’s also the one who won her for me at a carnival when I was two, so I can’t be too upset with him. One night the wind blew my bedroom window open, knocking over a bedside lamp. It scared the bejeezus out of me, but my sister rushed in and put everything back in place, including my nerves. One of the days I was outside playing with a dog. I have no idea who it belonged to, but I was chasing it around and playing with it. Then it took a break and lied down, but I wanted to keep playing, so I kicked it in the ribs thinking that would get it back up again (little kids aren’t the smartest). The next thing I saw was its uvula as it latched onto my face. I was relayed from one brother to the other, and was held over the kitchen sink while I rinsed the blood from my face and mouth. Funny are the things that stand out.

Her eyes were orange, originally.

In April of 1987 we took another vacation, but this one did not include my brothers, and instead of hitting the road, we hit the rails. For spring break my parents gifted us with a trip to Disney World. We rode the Amtrak from Connecticut to Florida. We cracked Easter eggs on our foreheads and ate Kentucky Fried Chicken from a bucket. How did we have those on the train? It’s a mystery. Yes, my memories are faint, but I remember Chip and Dale joining us at breakfast and seeing Tinker Bell fly down from the castle tower during the evening fireworks. I remember some of the attractions: Mad Tea Party, Cinderella’s Golden Carrousel, Dumbo the Flying Elephant, It’s a Small World, and the Country Bear Jamboree. Everything was fun and magical, but I was sad we left without taking Peter Pan’s Flight and meeting Mickey Mouse. Fast-forward about 30 years to when I took my daughter to the Magic Kingdom and guess who was more excited about checking both of those things off the list?!

What tickets looked like before the digital days.

Another road trip we took was up to Wells, Maine in the summer. We went a couple of times and stayed in the New Harbor View Cottages off Route 1, conveniently located across from Congdon’s Donuts. Maine is such a beautiful place, but the water is freezing! It didn’t phase me as a child, but my body felt otherwise when I moved there in my 20s. But really, the lobster, the scenery, the quaint little shops… If the winters didn’t last as long as they did, I’d have stayed living there much longer.

Michigan was a destination for a couple of other trips we took. My dad grew up in Allegan, so we traveled to visit with his parents there. I remember going to Lake Michigan and thinking we were at the ocean. On one of those trips we drove to Niagara Falls on the way. Majestic!

Lake Michigan

Road trips are a great way to be with family away from the daily grind. No chores and no to-dos, other than sightseeing and memory making. Families need a break to reconnect. I’m grateful that my parents took us on road trips. They helped to pave the way for me and my daughter to reconnect when adventure calls.

What are some of your memorable road trips?

The Seventh of Firsts – The First Time I Left the Country Alone

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As noted in a previous post, I left the country for the first time when I was 5 on a road trip to Canada. I traveled to Canada a few other times for soccer tournaments in Montreal. But the first time I left the country on my own was in 1998 when I flew to the Dominican Republic to visit my sister. She was teaching in an English-speaking school in Santo Domingo. I traveled with two friends in the front of a Penske truck from Pennsylvania to Miami, where I left them and caught a flight to the DR by way of Puerto Rico.

Once there, everyone wanted to be my taxi driver! Luckily, my sister arrived quickly and we headed back to the home she was living in with a host family. Maria Louisa and her two boys were wonderful hosts, and it was very sweet to welcome me into their home so that I could visit with my sister and explore their country. I’m also very grateful to Maria Louisa for killing the giant (I swear it was several inches long) cockroach that flew in through the window one evening. My sister and I were screaming and jumping on our beds while she battled the bug with a shoe. That was my first cockroach encounter, and it gave me quite a jolt! The rest of my experiences were much calmer and more beautiful.

My sister was the perfect tour guide. She led me to Las Terrenas on the Samana peninsula. The ride was a little hairy as we rode in the bed of an old pickup truck along narrow, mountainside dirt roads. We hiked into the rainforest while we were there. There were spectacular panoramic views of the Caribbean from the top. While on that hike we came across a double waterfall, the Salto El Limon. A hidden gem!

Above, top right, is the beach we enjoyed by our hotel. The hotel had beautiful views from the open windows. Mosquito nets hung over the beds. Uniformed men guarded the front gates with machine guns. They were especially useful when saying goodbye to the two men who we’d met on the beach earlier in the day, ran into again at the market, and then enjoyed dancing merengue with at a local discotheque that evening. The waters were warm, gentle, and crystal clear. My sister floated along singing Irving Berlin’s Cheek to Cheek. At the market I found a beautiful painting by a Haitian artist that still hangs in my home.

When we returned to the capital, my sister took me to the Colonial Zone (Ciudad Colonial) to sightsee. We did some bargaining at the marketplace and I left with some lovely pieces of amber and larimar.

Our second beach getaway was to Juan Dolio. We stayed at an all-inclusive resort (my first and only). It was what one would hope for: endless tropical fruits and cocktails, pristine beaches, peaceful atmosphere. I got my hair braided (remember to bring cash for that!). My sister also took me to a place that offered horseback rides along the beach. That is definitely one of my happiest memories. The horse could have done that walk with his eyes closed. It was so relaxing and exciting all at once.

I’d love to go back, but I’m sure it just wouldn’t be the same. I find there’s a nuance when traveling to meet someone. They know the hidden gems, the ins and outs, the language, the must-dos. And they know better than a guidebook, because they also know you. I’m grateful for the experience, and especially one provided by and shared with my sister.

When did you first leave your home country, and to where did you travel?