The 580

The 580 is Modesto's "gateway" to the bay area. You pretty much have to take it anytime you head out west to the bay. I spent this past weekend in Napa. On Sunday I headed back to Modesto and as I made my way from the 680 onto the eastbound 580 headed for Modesto I was flooded with some hard memories. The last time I was headed eastbound on the 580 was nearly one year ago, mid-September. Austin and I had flown in from Idaho for the weekend. I was about 9 weeks pregnant and there were still only about 3 people that knew what was going on. (He knew everything about my situation and still said he wanted to stay with me, so that is what we did until October) We landed at the Oakland airport where his sister and brother-in-law picked us up and took us to SF to help them with some wedding stuff. I knew that I was acting different and I knew that everyone could tell something was up, especially when I didn't order a glass of wine or a beer when we went out to lunch. I wanted to be my normal self but all I could focus on was not breaking down and crying. I wanted to get it off my chest and say what was going on, but what words do I use and where does something this big get inserted into conversation? This would be the feeling I carried throughout my entire weekend back home. (At this point nobody in my family knew) I was overwhelmed on so many different levels that I didn't know what to do. After lunch in SF Aus and I got dropped off in San Mateo to drive ourselves back to Modesto. The second we were alone in our own car I lost it. I cried nearly the entire way down that familiar stretch of the eastbound 580. Poor Austin. I was struggling with reality again, wanting so badly to make it go away and clinging to vain hopes that going home would make it all better but at that same time I was absolutely terrified of reaching our destination in Modesto, fearful that somebody would find out or that I wouldn't be able to bear the secret. As irony would have it, my niece and nephew were over and I don't remember what the topic of conversation was but my nephew walks over to me, puts his hands on my belly and says, "baby in here?" I think my heart stopped at that point in time. Kids say the darndest things ;) Thankfully nobody really took notice and I wasn't questioned about it. As it turned out, that weekend my mom and step-dad went out of town and by miscommunication I missed pizza night at my sister's. Austin was busy with being in his friend's wedding so I spent most of the weekend alone. I took that as a sign that I was not meant to tell any of my family during that trip. The timing just wasn't right for whatever reason. We left on Sunday and I would not return again to Modesto until July 6 of this year.

Last September, on the miserable trip down the 580 I was filled with fear and panic and the only thing on my mind was, "What am I going to do?" "How is this ever going to be ok?"  Nearly one year later, I was making that same trip down the 580, but this time I was thanking God for what he had done in my life over the past year, thanking him for Grace and Liz and Eric, and all the people he brought into my life. I felt joy and a so much excitement for whatever this next year may hold. This reflection reminded me that there will always be hard times in life, it is inevitable. But there will also always be joyful times in life, that is inevitable is well. And I think it is very possible to even find joyful moments through the hard times.

"Life ain't always beautiful, but it's a beautiful ride" - Gary Allan