We were driving along the Oregon coastline when Daniel looked at me, smiled, and said, “looks like you’re enjoying your weekend away.” I was, it was truly incredible and I hadn’t a thought or care in the world. It felt as if my real life couldn’t find me here.
Of course, it did when I woke up to “I love you mom” written in the sand the next morning. You could see it from our ocean view balcony and for that matter, outer space. And again when the lady at the myrtle wood shop asked me to take a chocolate for Mother’s Day.
I haven’t written a lot about this topic since I bore by soul last fall. Well, in all honesty, I’ve written about it a lot but never posted anything. I don’t want people to pity me. I don’t want people to think that I am miserable all the time. So, I intentionally leave a few things out and find strength in Daniel and my closest friends. I am a happy person. I have many many blessings and joys in my life.
But, as history repeats itself we decided to get away for the weekend. AKA getaway from Mother’s Day. And lucky for me, my mom has 3 other children that have taken my place as rightful owners of her affections and so I knew I wouldn’t be missed. So, we left our cares behind and rented a room at a little motel in Rockaway, OR.
It was everything.
We left the house late Friday night and arrived to a dusk viewing of the sun going down on the water. The next morning we had breakfast at the local diner after Daniel went for a run on the beach. No, I did not go on a run. I politely stayed inside and drank French press coffee and wrapped myself in a blanket staring at the crashing waves as they moved in from the low tide of the night. After breakfast we meandered the streets and picked through the small thrift stores on main street.
My friend Ashley arrived in the afternoon and we solved the worlds’ hunger problem whilst on an hour-long walk on the beach. We ate ice cream and sub sandwiches, and took pictures. Next stop was 25 miles north to Canon Beach to wish our other dear friend, Cambria, the happiest of birthdays. It was cuteness overload with her almost two-year-old, Willa.
She is just…. I love her.
We all took another long walk on the beach, (or as Willa would say “beath”), had an impromptu family photo shoot, and ended the outing with fish and chips and clam chowder.
Daniel lit a fire in the motel room as soon as we got back and we settled in with ice cream sandwiches and Final Destination. We have this thing with really bad, late-90’s movies. And by “thing,” I of course mean “obsession”. We love them.
On our last morning we stopped in at the only coffee shop in town and I ordered a large Americano and marionberry danish. The sustenance needed to pack up and head home, but not before making a few vital pit stops on the way.
Pit stop number one: A little myrtlewood shop where I snagged a few more props.
Pit stop number two: Buying three pounds of Oregon cherries off the side of the road.
Pit stop number three: Tillamook smoked meats. Or something like that. That was clearly Daniel’s stop.
Pit stop number four: The Disneyland of the Oregon Coast: Tillamook Cheese Factory. Grilled cheese, squeaky cheese, Oregon strawberry ice cream in a waffle cone, please.
It was everything.
