Monday, October 15, 2012

Most Marvelous Mountain Trip

We just returned from  an autumn wonderland and Our Tennessee Mountain Home. It was the most marvelous trip to the mountains in our experience.

We connected as a couple to others to whom we'd never connected before, making us both hunger for a return to our second home. We've never before, as a couple, prioritized the people of Coker Creek; Richard always requiring a purpose outside of emotional need. It was indeed the request for his assistance that brought us to the mountains, but it was his commitment to my need for community that made our trip such a success.

This time, Richard hired those who could do our odd jobs, leaving his energy for creating connections with those that I most admire. He was still able to serve the community in his two-day assignment in serving the Ruritans in their annual fundraising event.

We began with a lovely weekend in Atlanta, spending social time with our brother-of-choice, conducting a spiritual focus group and relaxing with daughter and family. The last of Richard's Atlanta was spent with a chef and mutual foodie friend.

I was back and forth from the mountains to the "mainland" while Richard continued managing and doing projects at our mountain home. My granddaughter was performing in a marching band exhibition, bringing back fond memories of her mother's similar experience. I was so blessed to be able to enjoy this event with my daughter, her mom.

Coker Creek is a hotbed of "traditional" values, where families help families and neighbors never do without the necessities. There are rules to relationships, which here are held sacred; everyone is expected to pull their own weight. To be able to contribute is a blessing; to depend on charity is a disgrace. It was so lovely to reconnect with so many that we have missed, from my "Mountain Mama" to the wonderful women and men of the Coker Creek Ruritan club.

We live with one foot in uncertainty and celebration and one foot in slow security. This mirrors the two worlds from which my parents came, and probably the only way my gypsy soul can ever be at peace.