I write this from the front seat of the RV, where I sit with my earphones on, watching things on the Internet and trying to form into words what the past two months has meant to me. Tonight is the last night of our trip, of THIS trip.. You see, I didn’t like it at the start of our adventure when people would use the term “once in a lifetime” and “trip of your life” because well, to state the obvious, that puts a whole lot of pressure on this one trip.  I thought to myself, “No, no, there will be tons of RV trips, many, many cross country adventures.The kids are so young! There’s so many trips yet to take.”

Sigh. Now I know what a trip of a lifetime really is.

It is not a limiting phrase, just an accurate one. I will never, ever, in this lifetime have the summer back when my children are 3 and 5. I will never spend the summer of my 36th year eating peanut butter and jelly, sprinkling baby powder on dirty feet and combing dog hair from every surface of the RV while also watching the movie Charlotte’s Web for the 13th time. I will never, ever learn the hard way that Class C recreational vehicles aren’t made to go on every route that Google Maps directs you to go. I won’t be able to teach my children the game “Mother May I” or “Father Father Let Me Down” for the first time again. I won’t have to gulp back frustrated tears when the dog has diarrhea on the way back from Mount Rushmore only to find moments later that we roll into a place that has a carpet cleaner, an RV wash and a pet wash all in one.

I won’t get to say to the curious RV neighbor or nice waitress, “We’re driving cross country. From New York,” with the same brand of pride and joy. There’s just no way to replicate that.

Our family dinner table tradition, as for many families, is to tell the best part about our day. So often, Celia is the one who, bereft of any concrete memory of the day, will say “this right now” (pointing downward) for her favorite part of the day. It’s my favorite thing that she says. “This right now”. Us being together talking about our day. Us gathered around this table. Us,  just us. Right now.

I’ve had a lot of “this right now”s this trip. A time when you think, “this will never happen again quite like it is happening now.” You know if you tried to manufacture or force the same activity or memory or event, it would come out hollow, empty, devoid of real import. “This right now” is what we grasp for. As children, we grasp for it as we move on up through the ranks of adulthood. As young adults, we grasp the non-responsible time in life before we end up married with children and (gasp!) real jobs and bills. And then, as parents, we grasp onto the “this right now” with every syllable of baby babble, every student of the week certificate, every morning cuddle or middle of the night plea for a drink of water. This right now is sometimes the only thing that stops us. Makes us surrender. Take notice. And watch. “This right now” will soon be “that back then” and it will never feel quite the same.

Tonight is our last night sleeping in the RV together like this. A three year old cuddled on the floor with her dog. A five year old on the couch still with his glasses on. Quiet breaths and soft snores are heard as I type away. The dog gets up for water and you can feel the vibration in the back bedroom.

I’m inexplicably content with my this right now. This right now is the summer that I learned that I loved my family more deeply and more purely than I ever thought. This right now is the summer I learned that, even when facing brakes that are on fire and ants that are infesting, my husband and I can still sit down and watch the movie RV and laugh hysterically. This right now is the sweet spot. The accomplishment of the trip is behind us yet a cushion of comfort in knowing it’s not yet truly the end. I hope I can bottle up this right now and tap into it anytime I get nostalgic the next couple of months. I’m going to need it. Walking away from a two month period where your only goal was to travel and enjoy your family is not easy. We are blessed to have so many “this right now”s in our arsenal. It’s what will make us stronger individuals, a stronger family unit and help us as we live, and grow, and change.

And, if Celia or Parker or anyone were to ask, this right now has not just the best part of my day, my week or my summer, it’s been the best part of my life.