The BIG TRIP

On Nov. 12th, Mom and I were going to a Fiber Artist's meeting. I had started looking at what the local libraries were offering, and I had thought about signing up for a genealogy workshop that one was offering. Whenever I get on a computer and start looking up ancestors, I cannot stop. It is like an addiction to me. Anyway, I was making plans to do things while waiting to leave. I knew I had to be doing something. I had also been praying, asking God why we were still here after planning for 2 1/2 years. No answer. Well, that Thursday night, while driving to the meeting, my youngest son and daughter kept trying to call me. Thomas was at the house with our phone, and Mom didn't have very many minutes. When I called him back, he said I needed to wait. I said something about him saying it was an emergency, why was he making me wait, and he said, "You told me to call you the next time police were talking to me". Seems the police officer was standing there, while he talked to me. It surprised me that he actually let him. The people my son was staying with assaulted him, and because he said a cuss word, they called the police. The police officer was not happy with them, told them they had to give my son seven days to get out, but nicely found a motel for my son and his family to stay in at a reduced rate. My son was calling me while this was happening.

They did not have money to find another place; my son had just been laid off (no business); and they hadn't been there long enough to make the kind of friends you could turn to. They negotiated to stay at their house a few more days, while on our end, my entire family was trying to come up with a way to help them. The best thing to me was bus tickets for them to go somewhere else. Remember, I wasn't able to leave yet. And we didn't have the funds to help them. Well, after lots of prayer on everyone's part, our church donated the amount we would need whether we sent bus fare or went there ourselves. We thought it would be enough, but turns out it wasn't. But before we left, we ran into my daughter-in-law's aunt, and she handed us almost what the church did. Between the two, we had enough for us to go. We got everything ready and took off!

Thomas couldn't drive, so I had to do all the driving. On one o'clock Monday afternoon, we left Shawnee, OK. Our first stop, Okemah Love's store. We wanted to stop there, because this was our exit every week, when I worked in Wetumka once a week. It was a "nostalgia" stop. My plan was to stop every 50 miles or so. People kept asking why are you stopping so much? I wanted my van to rest (this was normal driving for me), and my bladder doesn't go much farther than that. I was drinking fluids almost the whole time. When we got back on the highway, I told Thomas this was new territory we were riding together.

I was going to stop in Henryetta, but decided to push on to Checotah. I was tired. I didn't get any sleep the night before, and we left the house in Macomb about 530 that morning. I got to see my oldest before I left. He was already at work when I called him. Anyway, in Checotah, I went to Walmart to get a couple of things and I rented a movie. We went to the Flying J across the highway. The plan was for me to sleep a couple of hours, while Thomas watched the movie. I place my laptop on the dash, when we watch movies, and instead of going to bed, I leaned back in my seat. Well, the movie was "Shadowheart", and it's a little hard to sleep, while a western (gunfighting) is playing less than two feet from your face. But I was OK; I felt better when it was over. It was 330 pm when we got to Checotah; and it was about 830pm when we got back on the highway.

It seemed like a lot of time spent, and we were only about 85 miles from our starting point, but I wasn't done yet. A sidenote: Besides stopping every 50 miles, I was also doing it my "Walmart way". I have a 2010 atlas that lists all the Walmart. My theory on traveling is to stick to the Walmart's. If you are used to strange Walmarts, like I am, than you always feel at home. That was something we noticed on our trip. In every town almost, we found the same stores we were use to. And the people looked and sounded like people we would meet at home. People move around so much, that you won't meet many that have been somewhere all their lives. My husband's family is one of the few. My family is scattered everywhere. I was born in California, and my mom is from back east. Both my parents' families moved all over the place. But I digress. Another thing about the trip was that we were very comfortable staying at the Flying J. We were use to it, because we would spend nights at one in Ardmore. Well, it's almost 530am right now, so I will continue this in my next blog. Goodnight. Or good morning.