Leaving Long Beach

June 16, Long Beach, Wash. -- The last day here. I woke up with a horrible headache and took Charlie out for a brief walk and then slept until 12:30. Yesterday I was able to take care of a couple things while I was in town but not as much as I wanted. I did get a chance to spend some time with Karl and his two younger boys, Eli and Asher. I took them out to lunch. Whew! $40 for lunch for two adults and two kids. And they take all three of the kids out fairly frequently. That adds up. I think Karl and Dee both realize that a lot of their money goes for eating out and I think they agree they need to cut that back some. I was so impressed talking with my son. I think he was incredibly reluctant to ask for money last week but felt over a barrel. I understand where he was; I have been there myself many times, but with no one to turn to. I think he will work hard to avoid having to come to me for help again. He is definitely growing up. I am proud of him and I think he has a wonderful family. I think he will work hard to take care of them.

I also took time to go to Mass Friday morning (I didn’t wake up in time for Contemplative prayer) and Fr. Peter’s homily, though brief, spoke to exactly where I am right now: Lost. I have already missed hearing his words that always speak directly to me; I know that I will continue to miss those messages and another really sad and painful thing -- aside from stepping down from Pastoral Council -- is knowing that he will probably be leaving next year, though I hope not. I have already squandered too many opportunities to benefit from his wisdom and spiritual guidance by going to another parish to sing for awhile. I regret those lost opportunities so very much. I don’t want him to leave but it is likely that he will be sent somewhere else. There are so many great needs and we have been so blessed to have had him for this long. After Mass I had coffee with a friend, Mike, who is such a dear person and such a great source of comfort and support and guidance to me. He is a darling man, a widower and former Jesuit priest, and we have shared some painful memories and experiences.

I left Vancouver around 2:30 and on the way back to Astoria called Enterprise to talk about their hours both that day and Saturday and ask how to schedule a ride home Saturday. The manager told me they weren’t going to be able to give me a ride back to Long Beach on Saturday and they closed at 5:30 Friday. It was after 4, I was probably 30 to 45 minutes out of Astoria and still had to fuel the car. I wanted to drive back to Long Beach and get my stuff -- including Charlie -- out and clean and deodorize the car (I had bought some Febreze with allergy reducers). Obviously I didn’t have time for that. I explained to the manager WHY I needed to go back to Long Beach before returning the car. He said to just bring it by and we’d see how it looked.

I was near tears (on top of this latest frustration and some emotional downers while in Portland, I had hadn’t slept well and was exhausted). I had no way to get back from Astoria to Long Beach -- I think it’s over 20 miles -- and if I didn’t get the car back by 5:30 I would be stuck. So OF COURSE traffic was incredibly slow. And OF COURSE I took a wrong turn that put me on a long bridge (Young’s Bay) that wouldn’t allow me to turn around for several miles. And OF COURSE when I finally got off, the traffic to get back on the bridge the other way was very heavy and people in Astoria are not accustomed to “just getting out there” and squeezing in. So I had to show them how. They also don’t understand, apparently, that you can get across one lane and wait in the lined-off divider area until your lane is free. I managed to pull it off without causing any accidents but I think I frightened one little old lady quite badly. I managed to get to the Enterprise office by about 5:20. The manager accepted the car and kindly allowed his car prep guy to give me a ride back to Long Beach. He could tell I was close to the edge and was very kind. I left them my Febreze. And gave my driver a $5 tip for working late on a Friday. Then mixed myself a good stiff gin and tonic, and then a second one, cooked myself a steak and went to bed.

It was a windy, cloudy, sometime rainy day today. (Of course; it’s Saturday!) I spent quite a lot of time looking at my road atlas and rv park books and planning my trip to Minnesota (via Rapid City SD) in August. I figure it will take me about a week of 6-7 hour days and an extra day for the Badlands. I guess that’s doable. It was actually fun and invigorating to plan the first leg of the trip. As of yet I don’t have an exact date when I need to be in Minnesota. Once I am off “roaming” with my cell I’ll call my sister and see if she has any more information. I have heard, however, that there is something of a drought back east and that the portages in the Boundary Waters are very long this summer because the lakes are all so low. It would be fun if Shirley could meet me somewhere and drive east with me. We could probably drive longer days if there were two of us. Seven hours is about all I can do alone in a day. I’d never make it as a truck driver!

So after getting that all figured out -- miles, hours, potential overnight stops -- I took Charlie on a very long walk on the beach. We were gone about two hours. Today’s ocean feature was birds. Huge flocks out over the ocean and also along the tide-line. I’m not sure what was happening but it looked like something out of a Hitchcock thriller. (Maybe it was those anchovies Kristin talked about in a comment to one of my earlier posts.) Sea gulls, of course, Caspian terns with their black caps and red beaks, huge, ungainly pelicans. I watched one tern swoop into the surf and snag a fish. In fact, Charlie actually managed to catch a fish himself but I was worried he was drinking salt water so I said no, and he promptly dropped it. But he still managed somehow to come home smelling of fish. Yuck! Why do dogs think it’s good to smell bad?

Charlie loved chasing the birds. He’d go racing up to a gathering. The gulls and terns would take two or three running steps and be off. The pelicans were really funny to watch -- they would hop on both feet several times before their big wings would lift them off into the air.

We walked a good two (possibly three) miles north and suddenly the birds were gone. And except for two crazy guys with their four-wheel drives that they’d gotten stuck in the soft sand -- Charlie and I were alone. This beach is huge -- it is very long and very wide and very, very empty.

The wind was blowing hard today and I was walking north into the wind. As it rushed past my ears all I could hear was the roar of the wind and the roar of the ocean. I could close my eyes and lean into the wind and feel as though I was in another world. Completely alone and cut off from all human contact. Actually, except for a brief phone conversation with my son and my brother Mike and the desk person at another rv park a mile north of mine to get a price sheet, I spoke to no humans today. Very eerie. I guess I can understand some of the crazy people who walk around downtown Portland muttering to themselves. Maybe they’re not crazy, just lonely and the only people they have to talk to are themselves.

So today again I talked to God -- with no small level of frustration and anger and even pain -- and asked what this is all about. I think I am doing what I have been called to do for the time being -- give up everything and step out in faith. And oh, I have given up everything. Security, friends, roots, routine, comfort, all my things, my faith community and the support from that; what little power I had as a member of the Pastoral Council, whatever power or influence I had as an aide to a U.S. Senator. I feel not only lost but naked, without protection, subject to whatever the winds blow my way. And I feel utterly devoid of a cause, of a mission, of some sense that I am doing something to make a difference in the world, to anyone. I can only continue to do what I think I am called to do, even though I do not see the end or any benefits from me doing this. But I have lived long enough to know that benefits accrue even where and when we do not foresee them. And that alone gives me hope and the faith to continue on until I get a clear signal that this pilgrimage is over. Or that there is some purpose here and I am able to continue with more enthusiasm and a renewed sense of mission or passion or whatever it takes.

So tomorrow I unhook and head back south to the Oregon Coast for three nights. Then back to Portland (more likely Vancouver) for a week or so. I am ready for some decent weather, for more than one day at a time. It is downright cold here, between the wind and the clouds. I am also looking forward to having better cell access and maybe even internet access so I can communicate with the world. The young lady, Sarah, I have been singing with is getting married next Saturday and then Sunday I will sing at the Contemplative Mass again. I will also sing in July -- and that will end my year-long commitment. Another very wonderful thing I am giving up. I’m not sure I’d be able to continue even if I stayed in town as the person we took over for will be back. I have another wedding to attend in July and possibly another parish event on the 31st, depending on when I have to be in Minnesota. And that will be it for the parish commitments I have, until the October 6 fundraiser for John's scholarship fund that I am planning to return for. I could find something at least once a month (not counting Masses) to return to St. Ignatius for but that would only prolong the agony of leaving and make it harder for me to start on this journey. And if I never leave, then I will not ever be able to really come back -- it will be unfinished business. So that’s the other hope I hold onto, that someday I will be able to return to my parish and friends, possibly to work of some kind. But that is all dark right now; I have no sense of what that looks like. I must face each day and week as they come to me, accepting whatever gifts and graces I find, especially those wholly unexpected.

TravelinLady