MaMaLiRZ

Wake up, wake up, morning routine! They both grumble and bellyache asking for five more minutes…

I warned you it would be an early morning. We are kicking off our tour of the 63 National Parks of the United States. Let’s goooooooo…MaMa needs to remember how much she loves this great nation and show you both your heritage. Just because you’ve both spent half your lives living overseas, doesn’t take away from the half of you that is American. This blood runs pure like the roots of an Oak. My oath stronger.

Hate however, is not in my blood, so how could I possibly hate being American? Sure, 56 weeks and counting, boy what I could do with the money…it’ll be found money, yep, it’ll be found money.

The United States and its territories have 63 National Parks and we are going to visit every one of them together! Our quest for 63. We will experience them, drink in their beauty, experience their bounty. Encourage their protection. And ensure that they remain proud and profound for generations to come, your families. My generations.

Who knew Florida, where we currently call home, houses three National Parks within her boundary. The Everglades, that’s an easy one. Dry Tortuga, what, never heard of it, and Biscayne, another one I had to look up. But today, today we are starting with The Everglades, um maybe we start with getting gas. Yes, that is a very good idea. Then maybe some breakfast? Yes, yes, another great idea. Okay, how do I keep this fun? Kids, where should we go for breakfast? Waffle House came the answer, swift and clear. MaMa, mama, …mama, yes Berin? (I believe he says my name a minimum of 1000 times a day, and usually ten times at once, without a moment of realization.)

I love them both dearly, without judgement, without boundaries.

Can we go somewhere I can see the stars? He asked. Well, absolutely. I’m on it. My mind races through my known National Park knowledge, currently limited, but is growing by the day.

Oh, shit, we are really doing this aren’t we? The excitement builds inside of me ready to burst like the audience 30 seconds before Old Faithful erupts. Maybe its the train wreck that I can’t look away from.

Control what I can control…Old Faithful launched my excitement to Electric Peak. Let’s do this!

Driving, the tunes play on the radio, waffle house here…we…come. Benjamin ordered three orders of hashbrowns, a waffle and a piece of Texas toast. The Mama voice in me silenced by the joy and freedom on his face. I swallow the “can we order some protein please”, and instead ask if he wouldn’t possibly want a fourth order of hashbrowns. We laughed; all the venomous smoke cleared from my lungs in that moment. We were free of the chamber. Our electricity radiated through the restaurant, and each passer-by stopped to say hello and ask what we were doing, if only to be part of our energy for a fraction of time. Like a magnet drawn to its opposite, we were so alive we penetrated the hardest exteriors. Our lights were bright and would not be dimmed.

We learned about Catrina, who has a master’s degree and a four-year-old son, specializing in the prevention of human-trafficking, and working at Waffle House every weekend. I shared our mission, and we commiserated on the importance of work life balance. Our energies strengthened one another. Both our cups were filling to the brim with each passing moment we shared. Man, we just started and my cup runneth over, we’ve only made it to breakfast.

On and on the car travels this time to the Everglades, West Shore welcome center. The car lurches to a stop. The distance on the road sign was written over with the word closed…hum…wonder what that means. To be clear it was not the first sign directing us on, but it was the last. We rolled into the driveway, dust flying behind in our wake. Sure enough, not only closed, but in the early stages of being built. Where was that on the sign…

We will not be deterred. I would, however, be lying if I didn’t say the mood in the car declined an octave, just look at my face. Persevere, overcome. We drive through Everglade’s city, in the rear-view mirror I glance and see the city offers tours of the Everglades, overjoyed we run inside and are greeted by a teenager recommending that if we hurry, we can make the last tour of the day, 15 minutes!

We run back out the door, jump in the car and drive back over the bridge that brought us to our destination. The Everglades National Park.