About three days after I arrived back home I received a phone call from my Dad. I had tried calling them the day before but no one answered. As a matter of fact, the same night I tried to call my parents my oldest brother called me. He said he couldn't get anyone to answer either. We both started to worry a little because my sister had left town and was on vaction. My brother said he would keep trying and let me know when he gets in touch with them.
Anyway, they were fine, just busy I heard all about it when my Dad called. Well I should say I heard all about it when my Dad called and then handed my Mom the phone.
Seems they went grocery shopping and the bill was quite large. This was shocking to my Mother. Of course my parents stock piled at the old house. When food items were "a good buy", they'd buy. The old house had space for that kind of thing too. There was a basement with storage rooms in the back which was a great place to hold extras (and hide Christmas cookies). They didn't move the extra food. I think she gave most of it away, excet for the 9 cans of mixed nuts we found in a box. What can I say, Dad likes his mixed nuts.
In the new house they don't have that kind of storage space. Mom said that's ok because she's not going to shop like that any more. At this point I could say something like "old dog, new tricks" but I'll just settle with...we'll see.
Once the food conversation was over my Mom turned to the bigger issue at hand and I swear on all that is holy I am not making this up.
"Well, we have to send the shade back." Mom sounded disappointed. I soon found out why.
"Why? What's wrong with it? I thought Dad was going to put that up on Wednesday." Sometimes I'm just to innocent.
"They sent the wrong brackets. They don't fit the window." She does not sound happy.
"Are you sure, Mom?"
"Yes. We have to send it back. They are sending us a new one but it won't get here until Tuesday." Now she sounds appalled. I knew exactly why.
Their big bedroom widnow faces the cul-de-sac and now it's not covered. The whole world can see in. I get that. I truly do. Being as I am I start to problem solve.
"Mom, just tack up a sheet. The neighbors know you're getting settled and that it's temporary."
"No, no."
"...Or maybe tape up some newspaper. It will only be up a few days and you can have some privacy."
"No, we just go to bed early...."
"Mom..."
"....about 7:30. By the time it's dark outside, our house is dark."
I couldn't help myself. I had to laugh and there was no sense in trying to convnce them of a way to cover the window. They had problem solved on their own. I have feeling there's a lot more of that is going to happen in the months to come.
Update: Talked to Mom and Dad today. I'm happy to report the shade is up, they have their cable and internet conncetions but Mom is feeling very home sick. Oh well, three steps forward, one step back. Even that way, they'll get there eventually.
1125.67 Miles
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Friday, October 8, 2010
Days 7 & 8
Day 7 & 8 Move-in
Day 7 , move in day, was exhausting. I was tired, Debbie was tired and Mom was exhausted. Dad sat there like a king overseeing court and not doing too much. Well, he did break down boxes. And when Mom found that one of the movers broke the printer cart that went with their computer desk, orders from the Queen came down from on high.
“Raymond, get up and come here.”
“What?” His typical answer because he doesn’t hear.
“Raymond” there was tone, “Get up out of the chair now and come here.”
He heard her that time and went into the office. About 15 second later he comes marching out and asked the one mover “Where’s your boss?” Oh boy….
Mom was doing all the unpacking, but by george, Dad was going to do the dirty work.
Later that night after we had gone back to my sister’s house reports from my brother started coming in. “Dad said that Mom keeps walking around saying ‘I want to go home, Ray. I just want to go home’”
Dad only shares those kinds of things with our oldest brother. He would never tell me or my sister and neither would Mom, but Joel hears it and of course tells us.
My sister and I might have gone too fast for her with unpacking the boxes. We didn’t put much away but we tried to empty boxes and leave things out so she could decide where they would go. Between, me, my sister and the movers she was pulled in too many directions.
I felt bad for her, I truly did. They haven’t moved in 53 years. They have never lived outside the town where they were born. This was CHANGE. Mom never did do well with change. But like I said, she was very very very tired that day.
Monday night at dinner we had a conversation about their neighbor lady across the street at the old house. Somehow, and I honestly don’t know how but again you go with the flow of conversation with my parents, we started talking about how Judy never gave them the camera that was on the table from their 50th wedding anniversary party.
“Did you guys say goodbye to Judy?” I thought I asked an innocent question. I should have known better.
“She takes things into the house Kath, but she never brings anything out.” This from Dad.
“She never did give us that camera back, Ray.”
“Yeah, I asked her for it once and she said she would get it to us. I asked her a second time and she stopped talking to us after that. “ Their 50th anniversary was in 2003.
“Dad, you haven’t talked to Judy in 7 years.”
“Nope, I asked her for that camera twice and then she stopped talking to us.”
“She gets UPS deliveries all the time but we never see anything like boxes or whatever in her garbage.” Trust me, Mom was all over what went on in the old neighborhood. If a UPS truck stopped at someone’s house, she knew it. She was well aware if emptied boxes didn’t show up on the curb on trash day.
“Her brother never comes to visit any more. We haven’t seen him in years. But then the old man gave him his inheritance before he died, Judy had to wait. The house is still in the old man’s name.” How do they know these things?
My sister, “How does she pay taxes?” I see some family tendencies here but I do love our free flow conversation.
I was still stuck on the fact nothing ever came out of the house. “How can nothing ever leave the house?” Then, as the youngest I did what I usually do. “Oh man, Mom she’s a hoarder! Have you seen that show? You had a hoarder across the street. She could have been on TV.”
All at the same time….
My sister: “Kathy….”
My Dad: “Yep, she probably was.”
My Mom: “Oh I don’t know anything about that” Suddenly she knows nothing.
Why tell this story? For a couple of reasons, it was a fantastic conversation and I loved every minute of it. Also, as I unpacked boxes the next day I got to tease my Mom. That was the best part.
Seriously, my mom had all kinds of little, very old, boxes filled with stuff. Just stuff. At first my sister and I would whisper about what we were finding. Then finally I couldn’t hold it in anymore, again, for a couple of reasons. One is because it was too funny and it did make Mom laugh.
“Mom, how many doilies does a person need. Really.” Then every time we’d get a story.
“Oh, that is (fill in the blank) that came from (fill in the blank).”
“Mom, we know what it is. Why did you keep it?” That was my sister being level headed.
Me, “HOARDER!”
She’d just laugh and walk away. She’s used to me. Actually, my Mother is such a neat freak that whenever she would come to my house I’d spend two days cleaning.
The second reason was because what we were finding in the boxes were, at times, not even close to what the labeling on the box indicated. I didn’t tease her about that. She did her best.
I was given the task of setting up their computer.
“Kathleen, you got us into all that. You go set it up.”
“Yes, Dad.”
When they get their cable modem I’ll be getting a call, which I’ll promptly turn over to my husband. Honestly, I’ve never set up internet connections. Mark’s always taken care of it.
Anyway, I was on the hunt for computer parts. The good thing about my Mother is that she kept the boxes that all the computer equipment came in. So I knew that if I saw a printer box the printer was in it. I found the CPU in the HP box but it took me some time to find the monitor. I eventually wandered out to the garage where I found the monitor box…..which was labeled Christmas/Garage. I opened the box and sure enough, the monitor was there. There was no Christmas or anything that belonged in the garage in it. However, there was also stapler and their mouse. Oh, and their web came because Dad learned how to Skype. (Thanks, Joel)
It was about the time when I opened a box labeled kitchen and found two pairs of flip flops and other shoes that I wished I could have made the time to go help her pack. I’m sure it was overwhelming for her. Dad didn’t really help. In his defense, not that he needs any, he walks a double edged sword ( and much to my chagrin I bet my husband understands all too well). If he helps and gets it wrong he hears about it. If he doesn’t help, he hears about it. However, on Wednesday I think all of that changed.
When we got to the house on my last day, Dad was unpacking boxes and he was kind of cranky. My sister and I speculated that there was probably a conversation that took place about my Dad’s lack of effort. Our guess was that Mom laid down the law. She seemed much better and was all smiles. There was sun tea on the patio and the throw rugs were in place. She was getting things under control. I’d say progress was made.
Three times we heard, “I’m not doing too much today. I have my kitchen and bedroom mostly in place. The rest just has to wait.”
I do have to say the place they move into is FANTASTIC! They picked up the community newsletter while at the office Wednesday morning. There is tons of stuff going on all the time. They have already decided to join the Midwest Club. They have no idea what the club does, but they want in. Mom also said she wants to take a computer class and Dad wants to join the garden and fishing club.
I was reading about the all the dancing classes and Dad actually said he’s like to take the ballroom dance class. Mom about fell out of her chair. Of course then he followed up with “after I get my hip fixed”. Ok, so that’s going to be awhile.
I’m happy for them. I really am. They worked hard. They deserve it. I’ll end this the same way I started it. I’m fortunate. My parents, while fragile are not frail. They can get around and still take care of themselves. They are fortunate. They have the sensibility, and the means, to make this kind of major change in their lives. Good for them.
The road ahead won’t get easier and I think we all know this, but for right now they can go and enjoy.
I've posted all the pictures that I took. I gave my camera to my niece the last day so there's a few from her perspective too.
Florida Road Trip |
Monday, October 4, 2010
Day Six
As fun as the drive to Florida was, dealing with the movers has been the exact opposite.
When the movers left my parents house last Monday the driver said maybe Saturday. During the drive down the driver called and told Dad Monday morning. Sunday night we got a call from the driver saying he had to go down to Naples, Florida and would be in Leesburg late Monday afternoon.
At 2:00 Monday afternoon my sister and I called the driver. We grabbed his number from my Dad's cell phone caller ID. The driver tells us he is in Miami, his boss the dispatcher sets the schedule. He won't bet there until first thing Tuesday morning.
We are not pleased. For those of you who know me, especially when I'm not happy, you know how I get. Just think of that times two, cause ya know, my sister was there with me. She's as bad as I am. So we call the dispatcher.
My sister and I are sitting in her Wrangler with the top down yelling at the dashboard because her phone was using the bluetooth in the car. I'm sure we looked like idiots.
There was lots of conversation before this part....
Me: "We are running out time to help our parents. We keep getting told a different date."
Movers said something but I don't remember.
Me: "My parents have no place to sleep tonight." (not quite the truth) I was trying everything to get them to agree to deliver Monday night.
We really are at their mercy and we know it. The problem is they know it too. There isn't much we can do at this point.
On a brighter note, I had a great time with my family Saturday night. My sister, her husband, my niece, my nephew and my parents all went to the Winter Garden Music Festival.
When the movers left my parents house last Monday the driver said maybe Saturday. During the drive down the driver called and told Dad Monday morning. Sunday night we got a call from the driver saying he had to go down to Naples, Florida and would be in Leesburg late Monday afternoon.
At 2:00 Monday afternoon my sister and I called the driver. We grabbed his number from my Dad's cell phone caller ID. The driver tells us he is in Miami, his boss the dispatcher sets the schedule. He won't bet there until first thing Tuesday morning.
We are not pleased. For those of you who know me, especially when I'm not happy, you know how I get. Just think of that times two, cause ya know, my sister was there with me. She's as bad as I am. So we call the dispatcher.
My sister and I are sitting in her Wrangler with the top down yelling at the dashboard because her phone was using the bluetooth in the car. I'm sure we looked like idiots.
There was lots of conversation before this part....
Me: "We are running out time to help our parents. We keep getting told a different date."
Movers said something but I don't remember.
Me: "My parents have no place to sleep tonight." (not quite the truth) I was trying everything to get them to agree to deliver Monday night.
We really are at their mercy and we know it. The problem is they know it too. There isn't much we can do at this point.
On a brighter note, I had a great time with my family Saturday night. My sister, her husband, my niece, my nephew and my parents all went to the Winter Garden Music Festival.
Ken, Angie, Debbie and Steve |
It was a fun event to attend but Dad's hip kept him glued to the benches.
Me and Dad |
But then he found an open swing and wouldn't budge.
Not too much funny to report today. The mover thing has me frustrated and worried. My sister's husband was joking a few days ago that the movers were probably selling my parent's stuff to people in Haiti. I laughed at the time but now I'm not so sure.....
Friday, October 1, 2010
The Last 308.36 miles AKA Day Three
There are so many good moments I can't capture them all. They happen too fast. While I'm driving I try to take mental notes but I can't keep up. When I'm not driving I can't get to the camera or IPOD fast enough.
For instance:
Me: "Dad, can we stop at McDonalds. I need to pee and want some Ice Tea"
Dad: "Sure, Kath. Where is it at?"
Me: "Down the road on your right."
Mom: "See the arches, Ray?"
Me: "Look Dad, a handicap spot." Yes, they have a handicap permit.
Dad: "Ok, ok." He pulls in. "Ohhhkay, this is the drive thru."
"Raymond," (do I even need to say who this is speaking? Remember, there's tone.) "we don't want the drive thru."
Me: "Dad, I have to use the bathroom."
Dad: "Ohhh okay, I forgot." He immediately pulls to the right and gets in a parking space. No, there weren't any cars coming up to our right, thank goodness. There also were not any pauses in this conversation, I swear.
Last night while I was talking to Mark I mentioned that I wish I could capture all the great conversations and then I realized I have my IPOD that records video. Then Mark reminded me the next day that my camera does too!
The first video I got is a gem.
I got a couple of great pictures once we hit the Florida state line.
It was mostly an uneventful drive down 75 south, but tensions rose as we got closer to the new house. There was a bit of confusion on directions plus some anxiety, and once again I was glad I had my GPS. They were just so excited they wanted to get to the new house. We finally made it.
We unloaded the car, they milled around the house and then we headed to my sisters. We ended the night with Dinner at Mimi's.
The road trip may be over, but the adventure continues. We tried our best to get a clear story on when the truck with all their belongings was going to show up. It's either tomorrow or Monday or whenever "the guy" calls.
I'm gearing up for a high stress day when the truck does arrive. Let's just say that chaos is not welcome in my parents lives and there will most likely be lots of tone. I'll try to capture what I can, mostly I will try to stay out of the way.
2:25 pm Arrive at new house
9:00 pm tucked in safe and sound at my sister's
Thursday, September 30, 2010
The Middle 510 miles AKA Day Two
What's the best way to start day two of one of the biggest adventures of your life? You guessed it, a waffle. Especially when you make it yourself. Oh, there also has to be sausage and an english muffin. Really, I don't think there is any other choice.
Except for my Mother, who had dry wheat toast.
I had my slurry.
It was all good.
(I told my mother that I would tell my husband that she did put butter on her toast. Consider him told, Mom)
We got on the road at 9:00am. Our first stop 9:45. Now in all honesty, between my liquid intake and my father's prostate, stopping every 45 minutes is about right.
Somewhere, before our fist stop, there was a sign that said Bowling Green x number of miles. Dad busts out with the proclamation "we are almost through Kentucky." Now, I'm not a geography genious. Sometimes I have trouble making my way across town but we were only about 30 minutes from the hotel, which was on the south side of Louisville. My guess is we had a few more hours of Kentucky left to go.
Stop two happened at 10:12. There was a small crisis in that the gas gauge dipped below half. Yes, we had to stop. We also needed to find a walgreens. Mom had a root canal the day before they left and there seems to be some magic over the counter pain medicine, non-aspirin, that only Walgreen's carries. Just my luck, we found a CVS and I had to deliver the news.
As I came out of the gas station, after buying $8 worth of snacks (all good choices and will last a few days, by the way) "Dad, there's a CVS four lights down, across from the Best Buy."
"Ok, Kath. Lorraine," he yells over the top of the car. We were all outside within ear shot of each other. "There's a CVS down the road. Let's go."
"No, Raymond. I said Walgreens." Now, I can't convey tone too well. There are cetain ways people stretch out words to inflect tone. Those two sentances were full of tone.
We all pile back in the car and off we go....down the road to CVS. Dad's thought, and rightly so, is that CVS and Walgreens are usually across the street from each other. Unfortunately, not in this case. She found something that she "hopes will work."
Me too, Mom. Me too.
We crossed into Tennesse at 11:10 am. The second proclamation was that at noon, when we hit Nashville, we will eat lunch. The first restaurant we see we will stop, as long as it's a good one. At this point, I'm thinking I made a tactical mistake. I should have gone into CVS and picked up a bottle of Nyquil or better yet, some Benadryl tablets I could have crushed into a fine powder. You know, for a little nappy nappy after lunch which is when my driving shift began.
Lunch was McDonald's, sorry no Cracker barrel today.
I was lucky enough to be driving when we hit Atlanta at 5:00 p.m. It was as fun as it sounds (Stephaine, it wasn't the same and was kind of strange not driving with you on 285).
As we sat in traffic Dad and I discussed Kudzu. If you don't know what Kudzu is go here. Anyway, we were discussing how it's invasive and Dad hatched a plan. "They just need to dig up the root. Get some of those prisoners out here and have them dig up the roots." I love my Dad's plans, I really do. I have some research to do tonight to report back to him tomorrow. I have found out that you don't need to kill the root, just the root crown. This is going to change the whole plan. I might have to print out my research for him to read in the car tomorrow.
I feel obligated to report that the reason you aren't hearing much about Mom is because she's in the back seat. The boat, better known as a Grand Marque, is large and loaded down. She can't hear us up front. After awhile, yelling conversations isn't that enjoyable. She did get two phone calls while we were stuck in traffic. By the time she woke up, found her phone, found her glasses and put in her ear phone she had missed the first call. It was one of my brothers. She called him back. About 10 minutes later my other brother called her. I got a glimpse into how conversations are repeated. I'm sure I've been on the other end of the phone while she tells the same story for the third or fourth time. Then again, she may not realize it. On this trip alone I have heard the same story three times how Aunt Florence had to get new hearing aids because one of the Sisters at the convent got tired of her just saying "uh huh, yes" all the time to everything.
It was after lunch when I realized I was in real trouble. As we were driving on a long stretch of 24 East the following words popped out of my mouth. "Oh look. See Rock City, 4 miles." All I can say is the sign made me do it.
Oh, and gas was $2.48 "over here".
7:12 p.m. All tucked in safe and sound in Byron, GA
Except for my Mother, who had dry wheat toast.
I had my slurry.
It was all good.
(I told my mother that I would tell my husband that she did put butter on her toast. Consider him told, Mom)
We got on the road at 9:00am. Our first stop 9:45. Now in all honesty, between my liquid intake and my father's prostate, stopping every 45 minutes is about right.
Somewhere, before our fist stop, there was a sign that said Bowling Green x number of miles. Dad busts out with the proclamation "we are almost through Kentucky." Now, I'm not a geography genious. Sometimes I have trouble making my way across town but we were only about 30 minutes from the hotel, which was on the south side of Louisville. My guess is we had a few more hours of Kentucky left to go.
Stop two happened at 10:12. There was a small crisis in that the gas gauge dipped below half. Yes, we had to stop. We also needed to find a walgreens. Mom had a root canal the day before they left and there seems to be some magic over the counter pain medicine, non-aspirin, that only Walgreen's carries. Just my luck, we found a CVS and I had to deliver the news.
As I came out of the gas station, after buying $8 worth of snacks (all good choices and will last a few days, by the way) "Dad, there's a CVS four lights down, across from the Best Buy."
"Ok, Kath. Lorraine," he yells over the top of the car. We were all outside within ear shot of each other. "There's a CVS down the road. Let's go."
"No, Raymond. I said Walgreens." Now, I can't convey tone too well. There are cetain ways people stretch out words to inflect tone. Those two sentances were full of tone.
We all pile back in the car and off we go....down the road to CVS. Dad's thought, and rightly so, is that CVS and Walgreens are usually across the street from each other. Unfortunately, not in this case. She found something that she "hopes will work."
Me too, Mom. Me too.
We crossed into Tennesse at 11:10 am. The second proclamation was that at noon, when we hit Nashville, we will eat lunch. The first restaurant we see we will stop, as long as it's a good one. At this point, I'm thinking I made a tactical mistake. I should have gone into CVS and picked up a bottle of Nyquil or better yet, some Benadryl tablets I could have crushed into a fine powder. You know, for a little nappy nappy after lunch which is when my driving shift began.
Lunch was McDonald's, sorry no Cracker barrel today.
I was lucky enough to be driving when we hit Atlanta at 5:00 p.m. It was as fun as it sounds (Stephaine, it wasn't the same and was kind of strange not driving with you on 285).
As we sat in traffic Dad and I discussed Kudzu. If you don't know what Kudzu is go here. Anyway, we were discussing how it's invasive and Dad hatched a plan. "They just need to dig up the root. Get some of those prisoners out here and have them dig up the roots." I love my Dad's plans, I really do. I have some research to do tonight to report back to him tomorrow. I have found out that you don't need to kill the root, just the root crown. This is going to change the whole plan. I might have to print out my research for him to read in the car tomorrow.
I feel obligated to report that the reason you aren't hearing much about Mom is because she's in the back seat. The boat, better known as a Grand Marque, is large and loaded down. She can't hear us up front. After awhile, yelling conversations isn't that enjoyable. She did get two phone calls while we were stuck in traffic. By the time she woke up, found her phone, found her glasses and put in her ear phone she had missed the first call. It was one of my brothers. She called him back. About 10 minutes later my other brother called her. I got a glimpse into how conversations are repeated. I'm sure I've been on the other end of the phone while she tells the same story for the third or fourth time. Then again, she may not realize it. On this trip alone I have heard the same story three times how Aunt Florence had to get new hearing aids because one of the Sisters at the convent got tired of her just saying "uh huh, yes" all the time to everything.
The beginning of our day two.
It was after lunch when I realized I was in real trouble. As we were driving on a long stretch of 24 East the following words popped out of my mouth. "Oh look. See Rock City, 4 miles." All I can say is the sign made me do it.
Oh, and gas was $2.48 "over here".
7:12 p.m. All tucked in safe and sound in Byron, GA
Wednesday, September 29, 2010
The First 304.45 Miles AKA Day One
The first thing I want to say is that I love my parents. They are hard working people who did their best to raise, shelter, feed and educate four children. Were they perfect? No, but who is? I think they did above average. Keep all this in mind as you read this and subsequent posts.
At the young age of 78, my parents decided to pick up their lives and move from outside Chicago to outside Orlando. God Bless and more power to 'em. None of us kids believed it would ever really happen. After all they have been talking about it for a few years now and if I hadn't just been stuck in the car with them for the last 3 1/2 hours driving from Indy to Louisville, I probably still woudn't believe it.
Thats right. I'm helping them drive to their new life in the land of oranges, snakes and hurricanes. Wait. Did I mention the part about no snow? Yeah, there's that. I might be jealous about that part but, you know, who's to say.
I missed the first four hours. Probably the hardest part of the trip. I've moved enough in my lifetime to know that first step, when you know you are turning away for good, can be rough. For my Mom it's taken a toll. She will get past it. It's just that it's hard at first.
By the time they got to me they were ok, just tired and maybe a bit cranky. I kept smiling and loaded my stuff into the cramped car.
I kissed my husband goodbye, shut the car door and mouthed HELP ME before backing out the driveway.
And so it began...
"Dad, where's the GPS?"
"You don't need the GPS, Kathleen. I know where we are going."
"It's under the front seat." This from my mother who is wedged in the back seat with a vaccuum cleaner and 3 ft lilly plant among other things.
"She doesn't need the GPS. I know how to get there. 65 to 12."
With a little foresight on my part I had put their new address into the GPS on my phone. So, I fired it up. Yep, you guessed it.
"Dad, did you mean 65 south to 24?" I asked as I read the directions on my phone.
"Yeah, that's it. Hey Lorraine, remember that time we came here and I missed that one road and had to go out to Lebannon? What road was that? 32?" By this time we were at the Kroger getting gas which is basically across the street from my subdivision because the gas tank can not get below half.
So, my phone GPS is talking and then the conversation shifts. "My next phone is going to do that." Sometimes just have to hang on and go with the flow.
"Do what Dad?"
"Talk to me. I want one of those phones that talk."
"Yep, that is exactly what you need." I pulled out of the gas station and we were on our way.
My parents have this habit of reading the signs on the side of the road. I know you're thinking, yeah so? I do the same thing. Well, they read them outload. Sometimes they get them right and sometimes they get them wrong. I learned a long time ago to not correct them. Say for instance when they insist they saw a sign that said Public Library in a place you KNOW there is no library. After an hour of debate on the existance of said Library you might, say, have to drive them by the place again just to prove it wasn't a library. The sign did say Public on it but it was not a library.
As we cruised down to 465 and across to 65 South they talked about the last few weeks and some of the things they went through getting ready to move. I talked about work, Mark and the dog. We talked some of politics and the scenery. Mom told some stories of all the people she said goodbye to and all the addresses she had to write to once they are settled. Then I'd find out gas was 2.69 "down here" because there was a big sign telling us so. It was a nice chat.
Along about 5:10 pm Dad decides we need to stop at 5:30 to eat. We were just about to the Outlet Mall on 65. I said I had to pee so we'd be pulling over sooner then Dad saw the Crackerbarrel sign. Oh yeah, we were stopping.
"Yeah, let's go eat......find a hotel."
WHAT?!? We've been in the car less than 90 minutes. On their behalf, they had been driving since 9 a.m.
Suddenly noise from the backseat "Raymond, no."
I chimed in. "Dad, no way. We'll eat and get to Louisville."
He was tired but he caved. "Ok. Ok. I like Crackerbarrel. They have what I like."
Perfect!
Earlier in the day I had mentioned to my husband that I know they were tired so I hope they sleep while I'm driving. Like having kids. You love them and all but sometimes it's just easier when they are quiet. You know what I'm saying.
I was hopeful as I sat watching them both down a carb laden dinner. I knew it wouldn't take much. Turns out it didn't. But the best line..and there were lots...the BEST line of the night came at dinner.
From my Dad. "Kath, did you want your own room or did you want to share with me and Mom."
The very first thought that went through my head, and I DID NOT SAY IT (I swear), I can thank
a friend of mine from work for putting in my head. "Ohhhh, fuck no."
Thank god my filter was working. "No Dad, I'll get my own room."
That one earned a text home with something about selling my liver if need be.
After dinner they both dozed on and off it was quiet until we hit Louisville. They perked up then.
"Oh look, we are going to cross the Ohio river. There's no breeze."
I had to ask. For this one I was too curious. "Dad, there's no breeze on the Ohio river? How does that work?"
"Oh no. That flag over there isn't moving. There's no breeze."
There's also no library on ST RD 32 by the post office, but hey, maybe the signs will tell us something different.
8:30 pm and all tucked in safe and sound just south of Lousivlle.
Two rooms, thank you very much.
At the young age of 78, my parents decided to pick up their lives and move from outside Chicago to outside Orlando. God Bless and more power to 'em. None of us kids believed it would ever really happen. After all they have been talking about it for a few years now and if I hadn't just been stuck in the car with them for the last 3 1/2 hours driving from Indy to Louisville, I probably still woudn't believe it.
Thats right. I'm helping them drive to their new life in the land of oranges, snakes and hurricanes. Wait. Did I mention the part about no snow? Yeah, there's that. I might be jealous about that part but, you know, who's to say.
I missed the first four hours. Probably the hardest part of the trip. I've moved enough in my lifetime to know that first step, when you know you are turning away for good, can be rough. For my Mom it's taken a toll. She will get past it. It's just that it's hard at first.
By the time they got to me they were ok, just tired and maybe a bit cranky. I kept smiling and loaded my stuff into the cramped car.
I kissed my husband goodbye, shut the car door and mouthed HELP ME before backing out the driveway.
And so it began...
"Dad, where's the GPS?"
"You don't need the GPS, Kathleen. I know where we are going."
"It's under the front seat." This from my mother who is wedged in the back seat with a vaccuum cleaner and 3 ft lilly plant among other things.
"She doesn't need the GPS. I know how to get there. 65 to 12."
With a little foresight on my part I had put their new address into the GPS on my phone. So, I fired it up. Yep, you guessed it.
"Dad, did you mean 65 south to 24?" I asked as I read the directions on my phone.
"Yeah, that's it. Hey Lorraine, remember that time we came here and I missed that one road and had to go out to Lebannon? What road was that? 32?" By this time we were at the Kroger getting gas which is basically across the street from my subdivision because the gas tank can not get below half.
So, my phone GPS is talking and then the conversation shifts. "My next phone is going to do that." Sometimes just have to hang on and go with the flow.
"Do what Dad?"
"Talk to me. I want one of those phones that talk."
"Yep, that is exactly what you need." I pulled out of the gas station and we were on our way.
My parents have this habit of reading the signs on the side of the road. I know you're thinking, yeah so? I do the same thing. Well, they read them outload. Sometimes they get them right and sometimes they get them wrong. I learned a long time ago to not correct them. Say for instance when they insist they saw a sign that said Public Library in a place you KNOW there is no library. After an hour of debate on the existance of said Library you might, say, have to drive them by the place again just to prove it wasn't a library. The sign did say Public on it but it was not a library.
As we cruised down to 465 and across to 65 South they talked about the last few weeks and some of the things they went through getting ready to move. I talked about work, Mark and the dog. We talked some of politics and the scenery. Mom told some stories of all the people she said goodbye to and all the addresses she had to write to once they are settled. Then I'd find out gas was 2.69 "down here" because there was a big sign telling us so. It was a nice chat.
Along about 5:10 pm Dad decides we need to stop at 5:30 to eat. We were just about to the Outlet Mall on 65. I said I had to pee so we'd be pulling over sooner then Dad saw the Crackerbarrel sign. Oh yeah, we were stopping.
"Yeah, let's go eat......find a hotel."
WHAT?!? We've been in the car less than 90 minutes. On their behalf, they had been driving since 9 a.m.
Suddenly noise from the backseat "Raymond, no."
I chimed in. "Dad, no way. We'll eat and get to Louisville."
He was tired but he caved. "Ok. Ok. I like Crackerbarrel. They have what I like."
Perfect!
Earlier in the day I had mentioned to my husband that I know they were tired so I hope they sleep while I'm driving. Like having kids. You love them and all but sometimes it's just easier when they are quiet. You know what I'm saying.
I was hopeful as I sat watching them both down a carb laden dinner. I knew it wouldn't take much. Turns out it didn't. But the best line..and there were lots...the BEST line of the night came at dinner.
From my Dad. "Kath, did you want your own room or did you want to share with me and Mom."
The very first thought that went through my head, and I DID NOT SAY IT (I swear), I can thank
a friend of mine from work for putting in my head. "Ohhhh, fuck no."
Thank god my filter was working. "No Dad, I'll get my own room."
That one earned a text home with something about selling my liver if need be.
After dinner they both dozed on and off it was quiet until we hit Louisville. They perked up then.
"Oh look, we are going to cross the Ohio river. There's no breeze."
I had to ask. For this one I was too curious. "Dad, there's no breeze on the Ohio river? How does that work?"
"Oh no. That flag over there isn't moving. There's no breeze."
There's also no library on ST RD 32 by the post office, but hey, maybe the signs will tell us something different.
8:30 pm and all tucked in safe and sound just south of Lousivlle.
Two rooms, thank you very much.
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