Dec. 5, 1999

I Think I Can..

I think I just did the impossible. Got motel reservations in Fort Lauderdale for the holiday period.

In previous years, if I left it till October I was out of luck, at least in a reasonable price range. The only reason I bothered to try tonight was because the fifteen year old nagged me into it.

He really really wants to go. I'm not sure quite why.. part of it is because his brother is going with his best friend's family, and part of it is because he knows a girl who moved there.. but I wouldn't have thought all that would account for the frenzy he was in.

The reason I didn't plan earlier was because I didn't think my Dad would go, considering his illness. Then he turned around and made plane reservations anyway! He and Stepmother have wintered there for years, and although they sold their condo two years ago, continued to go and use Dad's cousin's vacant apartment. He's leaving tomorrow morning, and we said goodbye to him this afternoon. It was a different goodbye than usual, at least in my head.

That situation is the main reason I allowed the child to talk me into trying to get accomodations.

I'm not dealing with Dad's diagnosis (prostate cancer) too well at all. Literally.. I'm not dealing with it. I'm either stuffing it away or if it can't be avoided, responding with symptoms such as headaches and stomach aches. This isn't the first time I've been through this sort of thing but in one sense it may be the last.. after Dad I have no close older relatives. No living blood-relation aunts or uncles, grandparents, or anybody who remembers me as a child.

I guess that's something everyone has to face sooner or later and I won't allow myself to wallow in self-pity (for long), when it's so much worse for my father.

So we'll be on the road right around Christmas time. We've driven to Florida (and back) at least seven or eight times in the past dozen years. It takes two days plus a morning. It's tedious but not nearly as bad as it used to be. The first time, the kids were three and six years old. The car was filled with picture books and Disney tapes... audio tapes. If I had small children now I'd get a little DVD player and movies. The thing I remember best about that road trip was the first night going home, in the rain, in the dark, somewhere in Georgia, having to take an exit because the three year old had to throw up. Which he did, partially in the car and partially on the road.

We managed to top that the year after, though, when, the second morning going to Florida, Older Son who was seven at the time, woke up in the hotel with.... the chicken pox! After consulting with Dad we decided to turn back. Hubby wasn't sure if he had ever had it, and I didn't want to be stuck in Florida with an adult case of chicken pox which can be quite severe. (As it turned out, he didn't catch it but Younger Son did, on cue, two weeks later.)

I have to watch Hubby too, as he has a perverse tendency to take exits for no reason. The man has ZERO sense of direction.

Now all I have to do is convince myself that I can cope with being computer-less for more than two weeks. I think I can, I think I can...

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