Travel Scenes

            Boarding Southwest’s 6:30 am flight from Tulsa to Denver, I look for any open seat near the front of the plane because my layover in Denver will be a mere forty minutes.  To my left sits an older woman in the second-row aisle seat.  I feel bad for her labored effort to stand when I ask to take the window seat.  I am also beyond excited to be making this trip which I had planned for last summer but cancelled due to my breast cancer diagnosis.

            My arm feels itchy in my new compression sleeve with matching gauntlet.  I rub my upper arm, hoping the discomfort eases soon and thankful that I only need wear the sleeve and gauntlet when flying or traveling in the mountains as a lymphedema preventative.  My new seatmate and I start a conversation with the usual pleasantries of where we are traveling.

            When she says she is headed to Arizona for a few weeks and from there back to her missionary work in China, I ask where even though I know next to nothing about China’s geography.  “Shenyang,” she replies.  Startled that she has named the city where three fellow members from a church I attended in the 1990s are long-time missionaries, I ask the next obvious question.  Her answer is a delighted “Yes!”  She has worked alongside them for years.

            What follows is a long and meandering conversation that blesses both of us.  We exchange contact information, I ask her to extend my greetings, and when we part in Denver, we share a hug as if long-time friends. 

            A few hours later, my brother greets me at SeaTac.  Our first destination is Pike Place Market, where we catch a quick lunch and wend our way through the crowds.  We through part of downtown Seattle, and my legs tire quickly with the steep hills.  Then we head toward home, take the Mukilteo-Clinton ferry, and end up at John’s house mid-afternoon.  

After a little rest, we drive back down the island to enjoy the view at Double Bluff Beach before going on to enjoy pizza on the waterfront at Langley.  And then it is time for me to head farther up island, where I will be staying with friends Bethany and Don.  Their home on the West Beach Road bluff looks out over the Strait of Juan de Fuca. 

            On this Thursday morning, Bethany and I drive over to Oak Harbor to do an errand and take a walk by the waterfront.  I ask her if we can stop by Whidbey Presbyterian Church because I want to meet the administrative assistant, who shares my daughter’s first name, and of whom Bethany has said so many good things.  Last year, Dana had early stage breast cancer, which was successfully treated without chemotherapy.

            It is a delight to talk with Dana, and Bethany suggests we wander over to the sanctuary where the music director is practicing.  Teri was perhaps a year into that position when I moved away four years ago, and it is so good to see her again.  During our conversation, she mentions that Vic, who headed up our woodwind ensemble but goes to church elsewhere now, will be at a theater practice that evening.  Thus, I decide to drive back up to Oak Harbor to see him after dinner in Freeland at China City with John and our friend Debra.  God sure seems to be orchestrating the details of my vacation!

            On Friday, John and I take a road trip into the Cascade mountains to a favorite location:  Deception Falls.  We have been there many times before with various family members and friends.  One thing is different this time, though:  in addition to the easy-access trail, I do the longer hike with him.  In times past, I would stay behind with Mom while the others took that winding trail.  It is fun to see new views of the falls, and it is encouraging to have the stamina for that mile.  I remember when we went to the falls in July 2007 with our older sister, who was almost a year out from her ovarian cancer surgery and some months out of chemotherapy.  I think about what this particular hike must have meant to Anne.  Sadly, her cancer, despite cutting-edge chemotherapy, kept recurring and she died in 2009.  But today, August 18, 2017, I rejoice in the mountain air and breathtaking scenery.  John and I end the day with an ice cream sundae at Costco followed by dinner and dessert at Bethany and Don’s.

 Saturday morning finds Bethany and me at the Coupeville Farmer’s Market followed by a walk on the beach at Ebey’s Landing.  I’m thinking of “crashing” the annual high tea at church this afternoon. It would be fun to surprise the ladies there, especially my friend Nancy, who is hostess for the event.  But my afternoon plans suddenly change.

            That morning, my brother posts a picture of me during our hike and a Lussmyer cousin of ours whom I have never met sees it.  Though she lives in eastern Washington, she has been out on the peninsula for a couple weeks helping one of her sisters after surgery.  A flurry of Facebook messages follow, and Addie drives an hour to reach the Keystone Ferry to come to the island so she can meet me and, incidentally, hang out with my brother, whom she calls The Most Interesting Man in the World.  We have a great afternoon on his property, looking at the latest projects, which include a “truckport” for his two Ford F250 trucks, one of which he converted to all-electric; checking out his 4,000 square foot shop and the larger space behind it which he has recently logged off in preparation to build a covered shelter for his larger vehicles (lift truck, bulldozer, road grader, etc.); and watching his cougar, Talina, nap outside in her caged area around his house.

            The delights of vacation time do not end on Sunday.  I attend church with Bethany and Don, enjoying beautiful worship and great fellowship.  I get to see many of the people I knew during the five years I lived on the island and worshipped at Whidbey Presbyterian.  I wish I could stop time and stay longer, but I need to head down to Coupeville and meet my brother for our road trip to Oregon.

            When John and I planned this summer’s trip to Whidbey Island, neither one of us realized the dates chosen included the great solar eclipse of August 21, 2017.  Once the light dawned on him, he put together a travel plan.  We spend Sunday afternoon driving down the shoreline route and stop in Seaside, Oregon for the night.  After a scrumptious seafood dinner, we walk through town before turning in early.  Six-thirty Monday morning sees us grab a breakfast sandwich at McDonalds and drive south on 101.  But because of the fog on shore, we decide to head inland, and hours later end up in an open field in Rickreall, Oregon (west of Salem) where we find clear skies and an unobstructed view of the sun.  I wish that I were an artist so I could paint the image etched into my memory: a black sun surrounded with a leafy white corona.  Instead, all I have are pictures of the field.

            Soon after the totality, we hear traffic picking up on the nearby divided highway.  We join the traffic through town as I periodically gaze through my eclipse glasses and give updates as to how much bigger the crescent is.  Even though we are traveling back roads, traffic is heavy for about two hours.  Finally, we cross the Columbia River and head further east along its shoreline.  All afternoon and into the evening, we follow winding two-land roads through the mountains, enjoying spectacular scenery, including the beauty of sunlight sprayed down through dense forest.  At one point, we pull off the road for a scenic vista of Mt. St. Helen’s.  The driving day is endless, the company excellent, and the scenery exceptional.  I drop John off at his house at 10:30 pm and am “home” at Don and Bethany’s by eleven.

            What I need my last day on the island is time alone to do a few of my favorite things from the years I lived here.  The whole wheat cinnamon roll at Whidbey Coffee will have to wait till my next visit, but I do purchase a bag of ground coffee and take an iced coffee to go.  In Coupeville, I wander through the shops for over an hour, hoping to find perfect gifts for my grandchildren.  Though nothing that I like fits my budget, I thoroughly enjoy the search and the view.

Ellen and I meet for lunch at Knead and Feed, I finish my Coupeville wandering, and then I head south via my favorite scenic route, taking me past Fort Casey and the Keystone ferry.  Looking out at Admiralty Inlet and the distant Olympic mountains always fills my soul with awe at God’s grand creation.

            Though John and I went out to Double Bluff Beach the first day of my visit, I want to go back and walk the tidal flats.  Cars line the street leading to the beach, but I drive on to the small parking lot, and there is a single spot open for me.  Predictably, there are many people on the beach this afternoon, but the surprise is the heat.  I did not dress right for a beach walk in the sun, so my walk is brief.  “Next time,” I tell myself, “I will take a long walk, barefoot along the shore during low tide.”

            A stop at Payless Foods in Freeland to pick up a few things for tomorrow’s travel, and I am ready to head the ten miles to Greenbank, where my brother lives.  He calls our friend Debra, and this time we eat at Freeland Café.  The Alaska cod is scrumptious.  I am sure to head back up the island to Bethany and Don’s house before dark since I discovered earlier in the week how very bad my night driving is.

            Wednesday starts early and ends late.  I say my good-byes to Bethany and Don, help John with the drop-off of the rented car, and ride with him in his electric truck back to Greenbank, where I catch the 10:45 am Whidbey-SeaTac shuttle.  I take my last pictures on the Clinton-Mukilteo ferry.  By noon, I am in an endless baggage-check line, and from there breeze through security with my TSA pre-pass.  I enjoy a mocha iced coffee and a yogurt parfait and walk the crowded terminal down to my gate.  The flights home always seem longer since I gain two hours in transit, and I am bone-weary when I reach Tulsa and catch the shuttle for the economy parking lot around 11 pm.  But there is still one more blessing to receive:  the shuttle driver insists on stopping directly behind my parked car (he even backs up when I notice my car too late) and putting my heavy suitcase in the hatchback for me.

            An hour later I am home, exhausted from and joyful for all I have experienced in this amazing week.  A year ago, when I was so sick from chemotherapy, I could barely walk a block.  To be alive, well, and have hair are gifts beyond comprehension.  Tomorrow I will see my grandchildren and tell my stories to daughter and son-in-law.  I’ll thank God for central air conditioning in this Oklahoma heat and embrace my life as a cancer survivor.