Tags: disability and love, disability and marriage, disability and relationships, interability marriage, Megan Cutter, travel
It wasn’t until after we were married that Barton talked about his family history an summer gathering of relatives in the White Mountains of New Hampshire. Recently, we were able to return to the old cabins, rocking chair conversations and relaxation of leaving behind the noise of city living.
I am reminded of how much I love our visits to Randolph- sleeping hard under a tin roof, waking up in the dew dripping trees outside the window, fixing a cup of coffee and writing in my journal before waking Baron. Later just melting into the mountain view from the cabin just down the street.
During the week we gathered with family we had not seen in a long time, venturing on a short hike just as a storm began. Taking out from a week of deadlines to breathe, finally breathe and feel like myself again. I was reminded how important rest, silence and breaks are important, or we will run until we exhaust ourselves.
I was also introduced to the Randolph Picnic and Charades, and there’s no description that can fit the afternoon of fun with families from the mountains acting out syllables and phrases for the rest of us to guess. Later, singing traditional songs that echo among the rocks.
Before we left, we had one day to ourselves after other family had already departed. We rocked on the porch to watch an approaching storm. Lightening flashed over maples and pines on the mountains, and thunder bounced from side to side, surrounding us as the rain plummeted from the sky.
I huddled closer to Barton as thunder rolled through the valley. Eventually, we made out way back to our own cabin, falling asleep as the storm continued on. In the morning, we prepared to make our way back to our own home and work that lay ahead. Until the next time, when we return to the mountains.
Tags: daily living, disability, disability and humor, disability and love, disability and marriage, disability and relationships, disability and travel, interability marriage, Megan Cutter, travel, traveling with a disability
Last week, we were excited about speaking with a class at the University of Georgia. Yet, the week was full, and we found ourselves cramming in travel, meetings, work and fun. Unbelievably, we left Athens at 4:00am in the morning. Now we didn’t drive in the same way, so when we asked the manager at the front desk how to get back to the interstate to head north, we received very generalized directions.
While we weren’t exactly on empty, we were getting low, and we didn’t realize that the road he directed us to took us toward Atlanta- for oh, about 20 or 30 miles. Now in the middle of this, I began getting antsy. Did we have enough gas? Would this be taking us too far South?
Driving in the dark, on a road in which we were unfamiliar, we both began getting nervous. I got this picture of “the dark and dreary night.” We were going to run out of gas, pull over and get killed in some bizarre situation with an axe murderer.
When we finally found a lone gas station, you would have thought we had run the lottery, except with the high gas prices, it was the other way around. After all of our frustration, we looked at each other and laughed.
Barton saw this tiny sign for 85 North, so we turned onto this tiny road which led us through another 30 miles into nowhere and through little tiny towns. We sure didn’t come this way, but apparently, we were going to find our way home this way. Amazingly, we did make it home alive, and just in time for an afternoon meeting.
We have many travel stories- Barton blames our adventurous travel on me, saying that he never had issues traveling before he met me.
Since we met, we’ve been suck in an airport for three days (the airplane we were in was hit by lightning & had issues with the brakes), drove 11 hours through the same wild storm with tornados, evacuated off Hattaras Island by ferry where we were spending our 5th year anniversary- and had to drive through flooded waters to get to the ferry, and numerous occasions of lost luggage, delays and diversions.
Besides still having anxiety attacks every time I enter an airport, we’ve learned to laugh at the adventures on the road. For sure, I’ve learned to be more flexible and spontaneous. We’ll get there when we get there.
So if you find yourself on the road next to us- good luck, because you’ll probably need it!