1. Okay, something a little "rantish": Drivers, when your lane disappears on a highway, forcing you to merge left or right, you do not have the right-of-way--even though your car is bigger, more expensive, or whatever. Ditto, by the way, when you're entering a freeway: You yield to flowing traffic; you don't accelerate and hope someone nice (like me) will wimp out (which I always do--I drive a Prius, case closed) and let you in. Oh, and while we're at it, use your damn turn signal.
2. Whew. That felt good.
3. Our recent drive from Dorchester, Mass. (where we were visiting my older brother), to Hudson, Ohio, is, according to Google Maps, about 650 miles, door to door. It's the longest drive-in-a-day that Joyce and I have managed in quite a long time--more than thirty years, I guess. We used to drive a couple of times a year from Kent, Ohio, to Des Moines, Iowa (to visit my parents)--a one-way jaunt of about 700 miles. (Didn't think anything of it--whippersnappers that we were.) I once drove--pre-Joyce--from Des Moines to Lander, Wyo., to visit my college friend Charlie Rodgers--about 900 miles in one shot, by myself. (When I was an even dumber whippersnapper.)
So it was an adjustment, a long drive like that. Oh, to have a young man's bladder again!
We had only a couple of whiffs of Death along the way. A truck swerved into our lane without signaling. And then this--which could have been a real problem. On I-84 between Port Jervis, NY, and Scranton, PA, we came up over a hill--behind a truck, left lane--when the truck suddenly swerved to the right; immediately, we saw why: Stalled in the left lane--its warning flashers going--a car. With a guy sitting in the driver's seat! We were going--oh--about 70 and managed to avoid him. I hope the poor guy was able to get off the road before it was too late.
4. While we were in Dorchester, we took a jaunt into downtown Boston because Joyce and I wanted to see the statue of poet Phillis Wheatley that's part of the Women's Memorial on Commonwealth Avenue. It's a beautiful piece of work (as you can see), and we loved our walk to see the other statues--one of which featured Abolitionist William Lloyd Garrison. I remember that long ago student from WRA (early 1980s) Janetta Little (now Janetta Little Stringfellow) was working in a school near the statues. Couldn't remember the name of the school on Commonwealth Ave.--but Google reminded me: Commonwealth School (duh). After a few misfires, we caught up with her (she was walking from a classroom building where she teaches Latin I back to her office, where she's Director of Development & Alumni Relations). Hugs and whatnot (she'd known Joyce at WRA, too) and lot of memories flowed between us. Later, I kicked myself: No picture! All of us had cellphones; I had a digital camera around my neck on a strap, as well.
5. Finally--the most moving experience of the trip for me. As some of you know, the principal reason for our going to Mass. was to join in the celebration for my mom's 95th birthday. She now resides in an assisted living facility in Lenox. Anyway, on Sunday morning (last Sunday) we made our last visit to Mom before we drove to Dorchester. It was wonderful--but the best thing? Joyce noticed that Mom's nails had grown a little ... l-o-n-g. So she went out to the car, retrieved her "nail kit," and joined us back in Mom's room. She gave Mom a loving manicure--clipping, filing, then a little polish, all the while talking, talking, talking. Mom was so happy during the entire thing--and especially with the result. All I could do was sit there and be grateful that these two stunning women have been in my life for so long--and for so short--a time.
2. Whew. That felt good.
3. Our recent drive from Dorchester, Mass. (where we were visiting my older brother), to Hudson, Ohio, is, according to Google Maps, about 650 miles, door to door. It's the longest drive-in-a-day that Joyce and I have managed in quite a long time--more than thirty years, I guess. We used to drive a couple of times a year from Kent, Ohio, to Des Moines, Iowa (to visit my parents)--a one-way jaunt of about 700 miles. (Didn't think anything of it--whippersnappers that we were.) I once drove--pre-Joyce--from Des Moines to Lander, Wyo., to visit my college friend Charlie Rodgers--about 900 miles in one shot, by myself. (When I was an even dumber whippersnapper.)
So it was an adjustment, a long drive like that. Oh, to have a young man's bladder again!
We had only a couple of whiffs of Death along the way. A truck swerved into our lane without signaling. And then this--which could have been a real problem. On I-84 between Port Jervis, NY, and Scranton, PA, we came up over a hill--behind a truck, left lane--when the truck suddenly swerved to the right; immediately, we saw why: Stalled in the left lane--its warning flashers going--a car. With a guy sitting in the driver's seat! We were going--oh--about 70 and managed to avoid him. I hope the poor guy was able to get off the road before it was too late.
4. While we were in Dorchester, we took a jaunt into downtown Boston because Joyce and I wanted to see the statue of poet Phillis Wheatley that's part of the Women's Memorial on Commonwealth Avenue. It's a beautiful piece of work (as you can see), and we loved our walk to see the other statues--one of which featured Abolitionist William Lloyd Garrison. I remember that long ago student from WRA (early 1980s) Janetta Little (now Janetta Little Stringfellow) was working in a school near the statues. Couldn't remember the name of the school on Commonwealth Ave.--but Google reminded me: Commonwealth School (duh). After a few misfires, we caught up with her (she was walking from a classroom building where she teaches Latin I back to her office, where she's Director of Development & Alumni Relations). Hugs and whatnot (she'd known Joyce at WRA, too) and lot of memories flowed between us. Later, I kicked myself: No picture! All of us had cellphones; I had a digital camera around my neck on a strap, as well.
5. Finally--the most moving experience of the trip for me. As some of you know, the principal reason for our going to Mass. was to join in the celebration for my mom's 95th birthday. She now resides in an assisted living facility in Lenox. Anyway, on Sunday morning (last Sunday) we made our last visit to Mom before we drove to Dorchester. It was wonderful--but the best thing? Joyce noticed that Mom's nails had grown a little ... l-o-n-g. So she went out to the car, retrieved her "nail kit," and joined us back in Mom's room. She gave Mom a loving manicure--clipping, filing, then a little polish, all the while talking, talking, talking. Mom was so happy during the entire thing--and especially with the result. All I could do was sit there and be grateful that these two stunning women have been in my life for so long--and for so short--a time.
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