Dear Addie,
This week was the much-anticipated solar eclipse, and there we were on hour three, in a waiting room, far from home, watching a Criminal Minds marathon. Riveting. Not exactly how I saw this all going, but then again, I didn't have an expectation other than trying to get you to avoid looking at the sun because permanent eye damage from witnessing a historic event wasn't exactly something I wanted to add to our list. Allow me to explain.
Having to unexpectedly go out of town to manage some business away from home meant you and I were road-tripping to the coast. It was a short two-day trip, that just happen to have an epic solar eclipse happening during that time. I wanted to get out and enjoy the fresh air at the Oregon Inlet before the eclipse began. Don't get me wrong, I knew this was a scientific stunner with the moon and the sun, and it wasn't that I didn't want you to see, but the risk of you not keeping safety glasses on was pretty much a guarantee, and me saying, "Don't look up" inquisitively would have made you do so. So, I had planned for us to observe the daylight disturbance through the window - but first a nice, fresh air walk at the Oregon inlet.
As we packed up and headed to the car to drive to our walking location, a dead battery quickly interrupted everything. Boooooooo. After multiple attempts to jump the car to no avail, we ventured on another first for us both: a ride in a tow truck! Woop! Woop! As defeating as this felt, it was about to get worse when we got there and were told it would be about three hours, but they'd try to "sneak us in" if they could. Spoiler alert - we waited three hours to change a battery. I know what you're thinking: perhaps we should've Ubered or found another way, but today wasn't exactly going in our favor, so I figured this was the safest and best way to get back on the road with as little drama as possible.
Addie, you were a rockstar! Like, for real! You sat, stimmed, and sang "Who let the dogs out?" to whoever would listen. You stared out the window, watched Criminal Minds, ate oranges I had in my bag, played with your therapy putty, and flushed their toilet fifty-plus times - all for three hours. All in all, you were what I would call your version of calm, cool and collected.
Side note: When they finally came out to tell us they were looking at our car, it took ten minutes. Just TEN MINUTES.
We made it out in time to see the world around us absorbed into a warm, shadowy filter from the eclipse. Even without eyewear to look at the actual event, the scene in front of us was still pretty cool to witness.
Addie, while most of our day was not how I had envisioned it, we've lived enough life on this journey to embrace unpredictable experiences whenever they arise. Just a short time ago, I don't think that three hours would have gone as well as they did. Maybe it wasn't just the moon and sun showing off today, but also your growth and maturity—I was so proud of you.
You did fantastic, the car got fixed, and Elicipse of 2024 did not disappoint.
Love,
Mom