It took just over 12 hours to make the drive. Being a type of person that likes to feel in control I requested to drive the entire trip in exchange for Mother promising to entertain me by reading news or e-mails. We felt so much love hearing your thoughtful and kind comments as we made the trip.
For 75% of the trip W slept or chirped at trucks as they sped by. For 20% of the trip W screamed. And the remaining 5% will be known as the “windshield wiper incident” which does not directly involve W but was a pretty major exclamation point on the journey.
The first several hours were pretty quiet. We listened to classical chorale or opera music as that is where my son’s tastes are these days. Sigh. The kid no longer tolerates classic rock. No more Eagles or Bowie. Instead he is all about tenors and symphonies. At least it isn’t Raffi. I worked at a toy store the summer before my freshman year and had to listen to Baby Beluga on repeat for HOURS.
So as we cruised along, humming quietly to pie jesu or the like, I noticed that we were not alone on the drive. Every 10 seconds a vividly stunning yellow butterfly would sail by in front of the car. It must be that time of year, but it felt unique and special.
What was a difficult change for Mother, who is so used to making the drive to Alabama with no stops except maybe one quick dash for gas and a Dr. Pepper, is W’s and my need to stop every 2.5 hours. This is what stretched our trip out to yawning lengths, but no one has ever said that long drives with infants are as fun and easy as cake walks. Not that I know anyone that is an expert at cake walks…
I’ll skip forward to the windshield wiper incident as chronicling other parts of the drive would be tedious for all of us. Basically we had what you would call a classic, “holy fucking shit it is raining like crazy and our windshield wipers are useless and rotten and I CAN’T SEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE”. Interstate edition.
It was as horrible as you can imagine. But luckily we found (after several futile attempts) a gas station that had new wipers for sale. Then begins the part of the saga where neither Mother, nor I, nor the gas station clerk person, nor good Samaritan number 1 could figure out how to change out the wiper blades. Nearly an hour later we found good Samaritan number 2 and after some handy work with a flat head screw driver we were in business.
And of course Mother and I were nearly in tears the entire time. Because at that moment it felt like the day would never end, the drive would never end, and W would never stop screaming. And it was 11pm.
We finally reached our hotel and dragged ourselves to bed.
This morning W and I were up early (word up, central time zone) and went out into the world to stock up on important things like baby wipes (whoops. Guess who forgot to pack those? Me.) and cereal bars. I took W to the grocery store that I had gone to a million times with Millie- the one that was next to the elementary school that I attended for two years. The grocery store was mostly empty but every shopper we encountered was tiny and old but delighted by W. (W now believes that grocery store buggies are the coolest fucking things EVER)
I marvel at the changes that have happened to this city during the time that we have been away. Entire blocks that used to be adorable tiny houses now host beautiful and glamorous shopping mecas. W and I ran in one of the new places to grab some bagels and coffee to go and I had to laugh at the collection of people huddled inside on their laptops. This was exactly what I had pined for all the years that I lived here.
I did see, head down with his face in the paper, a guy I think I went on a date with once. (I think he thought it was a date and I just thought it was going to the movies) And I had this crazy commentary in my mind as I bounced W on my hip and waited for my coffee to be ready. What a sight I would be to people that I have not seen in 3+ years: several pant sizes fatter, way less concerned with my outward appearance, and, oh yes, I have a baby.
I am now hosting all kinds of stupid body hating thoughts and regret leaving the hotel wearing the pants that are always just a bit snug fresh from the dryer. And then of course feeling lame that my mind is filling up with such nonsense when this trip is so not about me or the size of my ass.
But part of coming back to honor Millie will include seeing people that I wasn’t sure I would ever see again.
This morning Mother and I are going to the funeral home to drop off the clothes that we selected for Millie to wear. And then we will drive around and visit places that were special to Millie. Due to logistical circumstances the service will be on Tuesday morning.
I feel like I am compartmentalizing my grief right now. Holding it in until? I have no idea. I just know that I am tense about things like the visitation and I want to be strong for Mother and I have anxiety about potential for family drama that I won’t blog about and seeing people that I haven’t seen in a while. A wonderful part of this trip is that W will get to be squished and loved on by one of his Godmothers and several other important people in our lives that have been waiting to meet him.
{ 22 comments… read them below or add one }
I’m glad to hear from you. It will be a stressful and sad weekend, but you and your mother will survive it with grace, I’m sure. And even if it isn’t with all grace, that’s ok, too! : 0 ) Hopefully, the family drama will not be too bad. Sometimes people behave themselves better in funeral situations but sometimes, unfortunately, they don’t. Some family members are just idiots, don’t forget, esp. down there in Alabama. J/K, Alabama folks… Tennessee girl here with AL hubby. But being a southern girl like you, I have found that there is really nothing like a southern open casket viewing and funeral. It’s always a little bit like Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil, with the southern gothic on display (which can be endlessly amusing and scary all at once), but mostly, I think you will find joy in the people who come to celebrate your GM’s life. When my Mammaw died a few years back, she was almost 95 and had lived here in Chattanooga since 1920, so you can imagine how many friends she had made over those years. At her funeral, I finally saw the beauty of viewing the body. I had been to a zillion open casket funerals since I was teeny tiny (and my mother still takes me to them today because she a. doesn’t want to go to them alone and b. I can’t ever say no when she asks me to go with her), but until my Mammaw’s, I suppose I didn’t get it. I loved to hear her friends, some of whom she hadn’t seen in years, exclaim how lovely she looked or how glad they were to get to see her again, even there in the funeral home ,or perhaps, especially there in the funeral home… not because they were glad she was gone, but they were truly reveling in the joy of her life long lived and well-lived. And even though she was there now in death, I saw in their faces and heard in their voices happiness and satisfaction in having known her. And I know the same will be true with Millie. And you can be satisfied that you loved her with your whole being. I love you!
I’m glad you all made it safely to your destination. I hope that your time there can have as many happy memorable moments as sad. Hugs to you.
thinking of you, mother and W in these days ahead. that photograph is beautiful and my heart is stuck on the butterfly that followed you on your trip…
sending you all my love,
gypsy
My thoughts and love are with you.
Excellent reply from Laura!
Thanks for sharing yourself during this tough time. I sure hope it helps you to write it out. Don’t worry about the impending dramas which may or may not occur–just focus on as you said, the wonderful part of the trip, W gettin’ loved on by many.
Thinking of you all!
I’m strangely excited we’re in the same time zone, though I wish it weren’t because of these circumstances. I hope you have a blessed few days, though it will undoubtedly be difficult. Thinking of you. xo
Don’t stress about the family drama (or the size of your bum!). These next few days are just about getting through, and however bad it could possibly get, they will be over quickly Give yourself permission to take it one second at a time, and to politely walk out on anything unkind. Seize the beautiful moments where you can find them, and celebrate Millie’s life. And to hell with the rest! BTW, I am totally a private griever. I think it’s okay to compartmentalize, as long as you close the blinds and let yourself grieve once the hoo-haa stuff is over.
You and your mom and W and Millie are in my thoughts.
We had the same windshield wiper incident coming back from San Antonio. It’s amazing how many places don’t stock such a necessary item.
I’m so glad you have W. there. He will make everything ok somehow even when you least expect it. Babies just don’t let you hide even when you desperately want to.
It is a sad statement for someone (namely me) who is from Georgia, and has lived there her entire life, to admit that she has never been to the state of Alabama. Florida- yes, Tennessee- yes, South and North Carolina- yes. I’ve even been to New York, Massachusetts, and Nevada, but never to the neighboring state of Alabama. I hope that the trip is therapeutic for you and your mother and that you get through all of the services without any family drama. Perhaps those who might think of making drama will realize that it is not the time nor the place for things like that. Good luck with everything and have a safe trip back!
Sometimes that’s the only way to get through it: compartmentalization. I’m holding you all so close. Love to you, Cali. You and your mom and W and of course, GM.
Glad you made it safely. I have no words for you. What you are taking now is an intensely personal journal and each person will want/need to do it in their own way. I know you are worried about Mother. But, worry about you and what you need too. Sending warm thoughts your way.
We drove 5 hours south to Tennessee when J was 5 months old last year, and it was horrible hell with him screaming the whole time.
I hope her visitation and funeral are low of the family drama and high on the good stories of Millie’s long life.
I’m so glad to have gotten an update for all of you have been very much on my mind. I hope it is a smooth trip.
Love and hugs!
That is a really rough drive to make, even under good circumstances. Glad to hear you are hanging in there, don’t worry about compartmentalizing, you can deal with your feelings in your own time. I think people tend to go on autopilot directly after a death to be able to get through everything that needs to get done, I think it’s a coping mechanism. When you are ready to grieve, you will. Thinking of you and hoping things go as well as they can.
I’m happy for you about the happy W part of the story. I compartmentalize VERY well with family trauma like death. It’s craziness with how emotional I am with all the little shit.
I smiled at W chirping. He is SUCH a gorgeous baby. I wanted to squish him all the time when I saw him. And when you’re feeling badly, remember that I call him a gorgeous baby, and that I also say he looks just like you.
xoxo
I’m all for compartmentalizing. When you do have to let it go, you know we will all be here with tissues to dry your tears, and hugs to embrace you with.
Your windshield wiper part, reminds me of so many different moments in life. It’s starts with crying and ends with laughter, because it is so much better than crying.
I think that little butterfly is your GM watching over you.
I agree with Carrie, that little butterfly’s name is Millie…glad you arrived safely.
Sending you strength, courage, love and hugs.
((Hugs)) My first drive with A from FL to TN was by myself last year. She was 2.5 and cried the last hour or two. Horrible.
She still gets antsy around the time we hit Dotham coming home.
It’s hard, I know, sometimes I don’t know what to do with all the grief. I tend to let it out in little spurts. Sending you lots of love.
Thinking of you and keeping y’all in my prayers. It is so very hard to say good bye to someone you love. Compartmentalization can save your sanity when trying to deal with everything during this time. I think it’s normal.
{{{Hugs}}}
I hope that the wonderful is wonderful and that the hard parts go quickly and as painlessly as possible.
Woke up this morning thinking about you guys and realizing that I had not checked in on you in over a week… now I realize why when waking up at 5:20am the desire to log on was so great.
I am so sorry about the loss of your Grandmother. All my thoughts and prayers are with you today.
BTW.. that picture above of Millie… it is BEAUTIFUL. Hugs and love to the three of you.