March 14th – Mom was up ahead of me (again), had her breakfast and when I walked to the kitchen I found her half inside the refrigerator, purging out things that we won’t need now that the move is days away. As she worked, she cleaned each shelf, removed every drawer and the door “cubbies” (there’s probably a word for those) and washed/dried them.

We ran a few errands including another stop at Goodwill with donations, ate a quick lunch then cleared the dining room table. I brought out the MAC, she grabbed the maps, TripTik and Travel Guides that Spence had provided from AAA.  Until 2014 (when she flew), Mom has driven by herself each summer from Florida to Michigan – sometimes in 4 days/3 nights and at least once in 3 days/2 nights.  “What’s your preference?” she asked.  I said “4 days/3 nights” and from her reaction it was clearly her preference.  It’s a road trip after all. And I bought 4 bottles of wine yesterday to enjoy after each day of driving (plus have my wine tote with corkscrew, wine glasses, bottle stopper and even 2 small cloth napkins).

Not that it’s just about the wine (it kind of is).

Mom is a member of Club Carlson and likes the Country Inn and Suites because they include refrigerators, microwaves and a full hot/cold breakfast – and the rooms are always well appointed and clean.  Based on her history, she chose where she’d like to stop each night and I booked the rooms for Tifton, Georgia, Loudon Tennessee and Dayton Ohio.  Should we need to modify based on traffic or weather delays, we can cancel before 6:00.  Done!

Earlier we’d discussed dinner and as we’ve emptied the fridge/freezer quite impressively, we decided “let’s reward ourselves” and headed out for a favorite local Italian place, Bianca’s Ristorante.

The site of many a wonderful meal and memories, it seemed only fitting that we come here.

Mom had her favorite – beef ravioli with their terrific house-made marinara; I choose the Calamari and Clams, sautéed in butter and garlic finished with a white wine sauce over fettuccine.  Their garlic butter rolls topped off this fabulous meal.  But wait……no room for dessert. Never fear, our server Ava brought us two house-made tiramisu’s to go.  It’s a state law that you have to order the tiramisu at Bianca’s. (Look it up if you doubt me)

Good times with Mom and a fitting reward.

March 12th – I wake up at 5:30, take my thyroid pill and decide to meditate for a bit so that when I emerge from the guest room, my attitude from last night is decidedly more positive.  When I come out, Mom has already had breakfast and has clearly been up for awhile (in fact 4:30 a.m. – yikes!)  She’s on a mission.  I quickly throw down 2 cups of tea and an english muffin (using the broiler since the toaster is packed) and immediately go to work on disconnecting all her computer components, then packing like a woman possessed (mirroring Mom I might add).  Finally at 10:00 I’ve reached a natural stopping place and head for the showers. Mom knocks on the door to ask me  the same question that just had popped into my head, “Shall we call Hugo and tell him to come now?”  I think I said “Hell yes”  but maybe thought the Hell part and just agreed.  By the time I’m out of the shower and dressed, he’s at the door.  We’d already covered and padded the sofa and love seat (that was loaded a few days ago) and quickly give him a synopsis of what we’ve got going on – fragile, very fragile, clothes, kitchen miscellaneous (you get my drift).  Hugo is great (forget my  disparaging comments from the last post when we suddenly found out he had to come a day earlier than originally planned).  Like a master puzzle-maker, he fit everything in, crawled over boxes to secure the ropes through the “eyelets” then stood up, grabbed a rail and Tarzan-style, swung out over the boxes rather than risk walking over them (quite impressive let me tell you).  He was done in under an hour.  I think Mom and I were in shock.  This was a gift – we just gained a full day by the universe sending us a virtual kick in the pants to ramp up the packing.  We were euphoric, nearly giddy.  She paid him, we high fived, hugged, locked the POD.  I slapped on a bit of makeup and we went to Heavenly Pizza for lunch and a glass o’wine!  (toasting numerous times over the fact that the POD is PACKED)

We went to pick up her taxes (another nod from the universe) that had just been completed.  Then came home, had a piece of key lime pie and went to our respective rooms for a nap. (maybe the packing, the excitement or stress or the glass of wine – don’t judge)

Here is a gallery of the garage, boxes, packing, Hugo and the POD.  The sense of relief is HUGE. (or shall I say HUGO? – another pun – sorry I’m a little delirious)

The moral of the story is that sometimes the universe sends you a gift.  Maybe you don’t “get it” at first.  Maybe you don’t like it. But take a breath (or two), sleep on it – and the next day you’ll appreciate it more than you could have imagined.  Lesson learned universe….and thanks.

Namaste!

March 11th – I don’t sleep particularly well, but am rested enough.  However as soon as I see Mom, I know she hasn’t slept well at all.  At 9:30 her realtor picks her up to sign the closing documents for the sale of her home of 26 years, we have two full days of packing ahead and I can tell her “brain is too full”.  While she’s gone, I decide to really hop to it, clearing, packing then wiping down shelves, drawers, and scrubbing both pantry floors on my hands and knees – something that physically is challenging (especially the getting back up part). After they return, her realtor comes in to meet me and give the house a once over, remarking “oh you’ve still got a lot to do”.  I’m not amused but am sure she didn’t mean it offensively, she’s been great to Mom throughout the process.  And Hugo isn’t coming till Friday at 8 a.m. so we have the whole rest of the day and all day Thursday.  We’ve got this.

Look out for the Detour:

We pack, mid-day we do our root beer float break, pack more, then dinner.  We even toast as we polish off a bottle of Malbec about how swimmingly things are going. I compliment Mom on coordinating the myriad of “moving parts” (pun intended).  She thanks me for the gazillionth time for everything I’m doing to help her. She’s really beat and says that she’s probably going to turn in at 8 p.m. then hit the ground running Thursday.  Then she remembers that even though Hugo just stopped by to confirm the POD packing Friday at 8 a.m. a few days ago, she’ll just “touch base”.  She leaves a voicemail.  About five minutes later he calls back and I can only hear Mom’s side of the conversation but here’s the gist “I can’t do Friday, my trip to Miami has been moved up by a day.  I have to come Thursday”.  “WHAT????”  (the voice inside my head screams –  really loud) We are NOT READY for tomorrow and she/we are exhausted.  She bargains and cajoles, he agrees to come at 1:00 rather than the morning.  We allow ourselves to vent to each other for about five minutes. Now fired up we know we have to knock out more packing tonight.

AND NOW FOR THE PLOT TWIST:

I walk into the garage to grab a couple of empty boxes only to find a pipe from the attic actively dripping and soaking those boxes –  and the floor under them (we’d had quite a rainstorm late afternoon). It’s 8:30 p.m. and I now must inform Mom of the latest plot twist.  Mom is seriously upset as this pipe/leak thing has been repaired twice. The last time (quite recently) cost a bit extra but came with assurances that “it will never happen again.” She calls the after-hours line for the company and tells them to get someone out here tonight. Within 30 minutes, the guy is here, goes into the attic 30 minutes later – he’s fixed it! (though he seemed perplexed that it happened at all but then he’s gone…. into the dark of night)  Mom mumbles, “I’m going to bed” and disappears into her room.  I hit the showers since I feel like a piglet (and not the Winnie the Pooh kind of piglet) and then collapse.  We have already agreed to get up early and pack, pack and pack before Hugo arrives at 1:00.

Stay tuned……and enjoy the scenery (again, pun intended)

March 10th – later that day….  Upon our return from lunch and a last stop at a favorite boutique, I could no longer put off the task of unhooking “the music system”.  Mom loves her music and she’d invested in a very good Yamaha stereo system which was also connected to her TV to enhance any show with music.  The entertainment center and TV (and for a few more days, the DVR from Comcast) would remain with the buyers of Mom’s house.  Unable to move this piece of furniture away from the wall, armed with a flashlight and wedging my right hand and arm into the tight space, I get my first look at the back of the stereo.  “Holy crap” I thought.  More connectors than I’d expected but not one to back down from a challenge, I was the only one who could do it. So I sucked it up and began.  The young whiz kid that hooked this up had thoughtfully zip-tied the cords however so I had to snip those (carefully).  Saying a little prayer I began painstakingly disconnecting one connector at a time.  And I found almost immediately that I first had to unhook the DVD/VHS player (more cords) and get it out of the way. Drawing diagrams on note pads (in a way that probably will only hold meaning for me and possibly ancient cave dwellers) I taped notes to cords and to the respective pieces of electronics;  I’ll be the installer when we get to Michigan.  Not my favorite part of the moving story thus far but I did it! (Insert sound of applause and slaps on the back here)

Mom, perhaps taking pity on me – or being thirsty – or with a compelling need to finish off the vanilla ice cream and 1/2 liter of root beer, suggests “how about a root beer float break?”  To which I perk right up and say “yes and let’s do this every afternoon” to which she readily agrees.

After dinner, Mom can barely crawl off to bed (at 8 pm) and I’m not far behind.  Two more days of packing before Hugo arrives to pack the POD.  Tick tock.