R and J in the USA

Whether it was the Christmas spirit or the Texas spirit, or a little of both, Texas didn’t want to let Julie celebrate Christmas alone.

Between Christmas Eve and Christmas, Julie received three separate invitations from strangers to join in a holiday meal. Julie was touched and tempted by each invitation, but was also selfishly squirreling away the rare opportunity for solitude. She did her best to graciously turn them each down. Well, at first. There was one that she eventually accepted and was glad she did.

For a little context, Julie had specifically been looking forward to 3 days of unadulterated solitude over the Christmas holiday – not because she was at all sick of Ryan and not for any bah humbug type of reason, just because, as discussed in other posts, both Julie and Ryan love being alone. As a current and aspiring writer of many things (blogs being the least of them), Julie works best without interruption – even pleasant ones. 

Julie arrived in the Cagle Recreation Area about 70 miles north of Houston after dropping Ryan off at the Dallas airport and her creative juices were already flowing into the now slightly bigger space of the van that exists when it is occupied by only one. Though Julie missed Ryan, she was chomping at the bit to dive head first into her creative endeavors absent of even the wonderful and pleasant kinds of interruptions.

A deep and shared understanding of what it means to be “in the zone” is part of what makes us work so well together as a couple. When together, we still manage to create lots of alone time while in the same space where we each can dive into our various creative endeavors with as minimal interruption to a creative flow as possible. There is only so pure either of us can find that space to be when together as even just the innocent movements of the other, or the innocuous sound of oxygen being exchanged between another set of lungs and the environment that we are both occupying can be just that ever so slight molecular movement that can bust through the delicate stream of creative focus and flow that we both can get so deeply into. 

We have developed many verbal and nonverbal shorthands that we use to communicate with each other to help each other protect this sacred space of “in the zone” – a space we both know as one where creativity is born – and like any newly born thing, creative ideas and their early life is one in which they are delicate and must be protected until they grow strong and solid enough to survive on their own. 

“Are you talkable?” is one such phrase we might use before opening up conversation. This usually means someone wants to chew the fat or talk logistics. The “are you talkable?” means that a real conversation is potentially on deck. Depending on how focused and in the flow the receiver of the question might be, this question could be met with a green light of, “sure, go for it”, an expression of conditional acceptance, “if it’s quick”, an answer as simple and clear as a “no”, or even a discernible and unambiguous grunt. An incoming phone call might be met with an “in the zone” text or just a straight ghosting. No matter what, the messages are always understood as the one retreats in reverence to the create space the other is enjoying. This fundamental and shared respect for what it means to protect such a space for ourselves and for each other is among our deepest bonds. It is for this reason that Ryan had no problem hopping on a plane home for Christmas to leave Julie in solitude for three days and Julie had no problem sending him off. We both know, Julie was about to enter the purest of such spaces, and on the beaches of Padre Island National Seashore no less. In short, Julie was headed to bliss her face off.

It is in this context that Julie found herself almost completely oblivious to the true spirit of the warm and lovely invitation she received from the Cagle Recreation Area’s camp host, Lee, when he invited her to share a Christmas Eve Dinner.

When Julie checked into the campsite, Lee rolled up on his golf cart with a glowing smile. Julie had just met Marvin in New Mexico and described him as having a certain glow about him. Well, it seemed that Lee had dipped his toe in the same magic waters, cause here was that glow once again. As Lee was helping Julie fill out the paperwork to sign up for her site as a walk-in, Lee noticed there were no other signs of life moving about in the van and asked, “Are you alone?”

”I am!” Julie said with a smile on her face that was probably uncharacteristic of someone saying this. Julie noticed a look on his face that was tough to exactly put a word to, but he seemed concerned.  Julie interpreted it as a generous kind of sympathy or pity for someone that was about to spend the holidays alone. Julie assumed Lee was thinking that nobody would spend the holidays alone by choice and that he was therefore feeling sorry for her. Julie was touched by the sentiment in his face as she was interpreting it and began to do her best to explain how, strange as it may sound, she let her husband on a plane without her as he headed home for the holiday festivities and that she was actually looking forward to the solitude. Lee acknowledged and made sure Julie knew she didn’t need to explain and was free to do however she chose. But that look on his face didn’t dissipate. So with that mix of the smile and glow and whatever form of concern or conflict Lee was feeling, he wished her well and headed off to his camp hosting duties, wishing Julie a great stay on the way out.

”If you need anything at all, I’m right over there.” He said with a smile pointing to his RV a few sites away.

”Thanks!” Julie said, before disappearing into the back of the van to sit and dive into the writing that was now piling up inside of her that she couldn’t wait to get out onto “paper” now that she finally had a few stationary moments to do so. She was fairly elated to be back in a season and a place where she could open up the back doors of the van and let the outside and inside air mix and mingle.

The next morning, Julie woke up to a flat tire. You can read all about the flat tire adventure in another post. She was thinking she better let Lee know that there would be a tow truck coming into the campground. She knocked on the door of his RV and waited for him to emerge. After a few pleasantries, Julie informed Lee of the situation and then began to head back to the site until she heard her name called and turned back around to see that Lee had reemerged from his RV to grab Julie’s attention one more time.

”Will you be staying an extra night then?” Lee wanted to know. 

Julie figured he wanted to make sure she registered for the extra night, but he had that concerned and conflicted look on his face again.

”Oh, I think I’ll still be able to get out of here before check out since the mechanic is on his way, but if I end up staying, I’ll make sure to sign up for another night.”

That was not really what Lee was concerned about. 

“Well, if you are here tonight, you are welcome to come join me for some BBQ.”

”Oh!” Julie said, finally realizing that, yup, that look was good old-fashioned kindness, compassion and concern all mixed together and forming into neighborly generosity. 

“Oh, that is so nice of you!” Julie said, touched by the invitation and the gesture. “And I would be hard pressed to turn down the offer of BBQ, that’s for sure!”

Julie was conflicted. Other than the flat tire, she was absolutely reveling in the time alone and loving opening the release valve on all of the creative things that were stacked up at the gate and ready to burst.

Lee smiled and said, “Well, you just let me know!”

When James, the mechanic arrived on behalf of AAA to bring the van back to an even keel, Lee rode over on his golf cart to check on things. It’s at that point that Julie got a chance to get to know Lee a bit. As James was working miracles to remove the spare tire from its securing bolt with his bare hands, Julie was getting to find out more about where Lee got that glow and that smile from and what exactly was behind that concerned look she had spotted over the course of their interactions.

Julie learned that Lee had worked 18 years in a steel plant, followed by a long career as a hydro plant operator. He’d worked on damns in California and Montana, where he was originally from in Butte. Julie asked if working in the steel plant was hard on the workers, physically.

“Oh, yes, definitely,” Lee confirmed, “a lot of guys get cancer or other things. We work with some pretty rough chemicals.”

”I figured I’d never make it past 45.” Lee said with a level of total acceptance that left an impression on Julie. She had never thought to take a job where part of it was consciously accepting that there is a high likelihood that the job would cut decades off of her life and she was always amazed by and grateful to people who do. She had especially thought of such people in the military, always grateful for that willingness to put themselves in harms way in service to the safety of others. Outside of the service, Julie expected such a realization to produce some kind of fear or anger – but Lee said it with a level of total acceptance that some things just have consequences. Julie learned a little bit about Lee’s service in the Navy working in a submarine. He eventually went on to explain how hard working in the steel plant can be on your lungs, “My lungs are completely shot.” He said. “And my back too. 

“You sure are!” Julie agreed. He wasn’t just there, he had that glow about him. Once again, Julie thought it worth mentioning. “And not just that, you’ve been through a lot and you look so healthy and you’ve got a glow about you and such a big smile to go with it.”

Lee flashed that glowing smile in response. That smile continued to glow, but filled with something hurt when Lee continued on as the conversation turned towards his wife and him sharing that he had recently lost his her in 2022 to cancer. There is a certain kind of look Julie has noticed can come over a man’s face of later years when such a topic comes up. We’d seen it in Danny Johnson’s eyes back in Virginia – when you can see the hint of tremendous grief and loss pushing its way up into their eyes that, at the same time, seem to be straining with equal measure to keep it from pouring out. 

Now things were becoming a little clearer to Julie as she began to realize how obtuse and self-centered she had been being. That invitation wasn’t all about her at all and it wasn’t pity for Julie’s aloneness. 

Lee brought it up again. “Do you think you’ll be here tonight?” Now Julie recognized that look of concern had a hopefulness in it. It seemed that Lee realized that he might need to make the situation more clear for Julie to understand.

”I just thought since you are alone on Christmas Eve and I am alone…”

Well, now it was clear as day. Julie may have been psyched to have the evening alone in front of her, but it was now seeming that Lee was not looking forward to it as much. Now Julie was dealing not just with the temptation of BBQ and the enticement of the experience to get to share a lovely Christmas Eve dinner with a lovely human being that was kind and good, but whether or not Julie could be grinch-ish enough to leave this kind man to eat his Christmas Eve dinner alone when it clearly was not so much by choice as Julie’s solitude. 

“I have plans for tomorrow night with my son in Conroe.” Lee assured, but he was a good dad and didn’t want to intrude on his son’s private family time for Christmas Eve. It turns out Lee and his wife had shared three sons together, 2 of which had been from her prior marriage and Lee began to go on about his children with that wonderful kind of fatherly pride that we’ve gotten to witness many times on the trip. He talked about how well they are each doing and how proud he is of each of them. He felt good about what kind of dad he’d been for them over the decades and how it felt to get to see them all make a good life for themselves. Then he wound up for the big kapow, if Julie’s heart wasn’t already near bursting enough. 

”That’s where I get this smile from.”

Well, that was it. It was official, Julie could not leave this campsite without sharing a meal with Lee. He was 77, the same age as Julie’s dad and she thought, gosh, if my Dad were ever in this situation, I would hope whatever person he was talking with would see that proud dad’s smile and sit down and have a meal with him. It wasn’t pity Julie had been seeing in Lee’s face, it was hope. And it wasn’t pity Julie was feeling for Lee, because he could clearly take care of himself just fine, but it was more a chance to share in a pool of reciprocal kindness and care.

There is something special about two humans that don’t know each other crossing paths and instantly being able to share in good company and shared humanity and Julie felt hard-pressed to pass up on such an opportunity no matter how much she had been enjoying the quiet. 

“What do you think about a Christmas Eve lunch?” Julie proposed, thinking on her feet. She knew if she didn’t get on the road by 1, she wouldn’ be able to make it to the Space Center in Houston, since it would be closed the next day for Christmas. This was one of the top spots on this trip that Julie had been looking forward to and not one she could stomach missing after coming all of this way. That plus making it to the beach before bedtime to be able to claim a luxury for which there would be only one opportunity for the entire trip – 3 nights and 2 fully uninterrupted stationary days in the van in the same place during which she could be completely focused – a treasure and a rarity indeed. These were two things she had been looking forward to for too long to pass them up. At the same time, now that Julie understood that look on Lee’s face, she couldn’t leave the invitation unrequited.

“We can make that work!” Lee quickly accepted. “I’ll have to defrost something in the microwave though.”

“All good by me!”

That concerned look that had come in and out over the last few conversations was gone for good now and that glowing smile was all that remained.

Julie arrived at noon to two pork sirloins smoking on the grill and the table set at her temporary neighbor’s home on wheels.

It was a delicious meal and wonderful company. Stories of life and travel were exchanged and the spirit of holiday togetherness was successfully stoked between two strangers that could just as well have been longtime neighbors or even family catching up on life in intervening years between visits. 

Refueled by the makeshift family feel and the pool of generosity and hospitality Julie had now been steeped in, Julie and Lee waved warm goodbyes and she headed off to take in the waves and sunshine on the beach with the warmth of Texas already all around her.