Another November

As another November rolls in along with late fall and cool air it brings with it bittersweet memories of our lives BC and AD.    BC, of course, signifies our lives before cancer and the devastating disease that took Sarah from us. AD is what life has morphed into since Sarah’s death.  Sunday, November 9th is the 23rd anniversary of Sarah earning her wings and gaining freedom from the aggressive leukemia that had tormented her for 9 months. That day will always be the worst day of my life.   With all the horrible experiences throughout Sarah’s illness I always carried hope in my pocket and although we were repeatedly forewarned about the path we were on, I refused to believe it would come to that.   

So as November rolls around I once again try to offset the pain with a better memories from Novembers past.  We were a camping family, for almost 25 years I towed our “Ramada inn on wheels” up and down the east coast from April to October. There is nothing like the open road, fresh air, and the joy of meeting new friends along the way.  When Sarah and James were little, we traveled often from New Hampshire to Florida laughing, exploring, and making memories to last a lifetime. During the winter months Marissa and I would review maps and plan our adventures for the next year. Each trip was an attempt to blend fun with educational experiences. We would visit amusement parks and historical places like Sturbridge, Plymouth, the Amish country, Gettysburg, Williamsburg and of course Disney World for the Millennium celebrations.  

We had many trying and funny experiences along the way but in November we only had one. Each season we made multiple trips to the Amish country because it was always a relaxing experience. Typically, our final trip of the year was Columbus Day weekend but one year we were brave enough to extend the season for a trip to PA Veterans Day weekend.  We traveled with three other families, each with their own trailers, and stayed at White Oak Campground because of its proximity to the Amish countryside. The campground had a large barn where they hosted Saturday night auctions.  For a small fee you could buy a number and bid on items.  One year I bid on a lot of lemon sugar cookies simply because they looked good; and we won.  Later that evening we gathered in one of the trailers for coffee as light rain began to fall. The rain soon turned to snow, and we decided to leave early the next morning because towing the trailers in the snow didn’t sound like much fun.    Early the next morning we each went out to gas up our vehicles in preparation for the ride home. On the way back to the campground I radioed to one of the other couples and told them we were taking a short detour because I wanted to show Sarah and James how beautiful the farms and countryside looked covered in a blanket of snow.  Back then our communication consisted of CB radios – no cell phones.  As luck would have it, a few minutes into our excursion our van lost all power and died on the side of the road. The farms were beautiful, the van; not so much. The alternator had burned out, the battery drained, and we were stranded on the side of the road with no way to call for help. 

While figuring out our next move, surrounded by nothing but cows, a good Samaritan drove by and stopped to help. Since the surroundings were entirely Amish, we were lucky to have anyone drive by.  Marissa accepted a ride back to the campground (something that, in hindsight, seems a little risky considering how many true crime shows we’ve watched since!). 

Marissa typically did not pay attention to the directions we were travelling but for some reason that day she had and was able to guide the driver to the campground.  It was a good thing I’d bid on those lemon cookies; they became a comfort snack for Sarah and James while we waited for help. Before long, the cavalry arrived, and we got the van back to the campground.  Unfortunately, the campground was closing for the season and everyone had to leave. After explaining my predicament, the management agreed to let me stay the night so I could take the van to a local Ford dealer in the morning. In a short while the other three couples hitched up their trailers to leave and one couple agreed to give Marissa, Sarah, James, and the dog a ride home. 

I love the peacefulness of the Amish country, but that night the campground was eerily quiet, completely empty except for me.  The only sound was an occasional ‘clip-clop’ of a horse & buggy passing by.   Throughout the night I kept going out to start the van to keep the battery charged and at first light I headed to the dealership.  As they replaced the alternator and regulator, I was looking out the showroom window as the snow again began to fall. When I asked about the forecast, the man at the desk said “snow beginning this morning with heavy accumulations.”    Exactly what I did not want to hear.  I told him I had a 24’ travel trailer waiting at the campground that I needed to get back to Long Island.  They finished as quickly as they could, and I set off to hitch up and head home.  As I pulled out of the campground with the van and trailer sliding and slipping in the snow, my knuckles were white on the steering wheel.  By the time I reached New Jersey the snow finally turned back to rain. I’ll never forget the eerily quiet night in the empty campground, or the tense, snowy drive home. We never went camping that late in the season again!

As I prepare for another November of bittersweet memories I’ll try to focus on that trip, and others like it, rather than the pain of November 9, 2002, when our beautiful Sarah earned her wings and became an angel. 

And on the 9^th, we will dine on Sarah’s favorite meal of McDonalds with French fries steaming hot and fresh right out of the fryer. 

I love you Sarah and miss you more than words can ever say!