I'm in Hocking Hills this weekend. I had hoped it would be cool enough to hike a bit. No. Hiked anyway - although I kept it to short flat and easy. Which also means crowded as hell. Too many people. Too many little people yelling, screaming and climbing on everything. Just not the vibe I wanted. I'm also a bit disappointed in the cabin I rented. But it was a last minute impulse decision and this is what was available. It used to be my go to venue when I needed a short vakay.
Today I snagged a few letterboxes (10) and realized it's been almost a year since I did this. Probably should make sure to do a little of this from time to time. Feels like the marathon days are over with Sno' leaving town and lil brother losing interest.
It was good to belt out Amy Winehouse and Adele at top volume and off key as I twisted through the back roads of Ohio.
But this trip on the whole has made me a little blue. Sometimes crying along with Amy. Sometimes distractifying myself away from poking at the source.
But the source came anyway. As everything these days does, the sadness centered around my mom. She and I have enjoyed traveling together for years. When she was diagnosed with AD, I knew these trips would end one day. I knew there would be a last trip. The October before we moved her into Memory Care, she and I took a four day weekend to Hocking Hills. It was harder than I remember I'm sure. But I'm glad we did it. Glad I splurged on the cabin upgrade since we spent most of our time there.
On our one trip out, we hiked to Ash Cave, just like I did today. It wasn't until I stood there in that bright August sunshine surrounded by all that unwanted noise, I remembered that she and I had done this together. I could not get out of there quickly enough.
How could I have forgotten that? Why the fuck did I come back here? Pretty sure this is now my last trip here. There are other places I can go that won't make me sad. This one is being retired.