Wow! I never heard that part of the story. I guess I was dealing with my daddy's death. During the years we were taking care of Gramma, our month-long shifts out of town became a whole way of life—Birmingham, then Ohio, weekends at Aunt Chrissy’s, and later, once we moved south, weekends at Aunt Sandy’s to pitch in.
You were a professional couch surfer by then (except in Birmingham, where we upgraded to our own little apartment—luxury living for whoever was on shift that month!) as well as a nurse, beautician and makeup artist to Gramma.
Honestly, only God knows how often you were staying at someone's house during visits to NY or during weekend trips at college. You were like a favorite piece of carry-on luggage—always welcome, always in transit, slightly rumpled but full of adventurous tales when you got to the other end.
Everyone wanted you in their home. Having that kind of broad support system really is a double-edged sword: so many open doors… and so many calendars to coordinate! But hey—at least you weren’t holed up in a Burger King bathroom or a gas station stall. Or worse, a car wash. (And if you're too young for that reference, do yourself a favor and look up the movie "Car Wash"—iconic.)
Oh! And I hope somewhere in these posts you share your story about renting a U-Haul - because you hadn't reached the age to be able to rent a standard rental car but could rent a moving truck- to drive the hour from the airport to Maureen's wedding. So creative, and yet you made it and I bet you were the only one who showed up in a U-Haul truck!
Wow! I never heard that part of the story. I guess I was dealing with my daddy's death. During the years we were taking care of Gramma, our month-long shifts out of town became a whole way of life—Birmingham, then Ohio, weekends at Aunt Chrissy’s, and later, once we moved south, weekends at Aunt Sandy’s to pitch in.
You were a professional couch surfer by then (except in Birmingham, where we upgraded to our own little apartment—luxury living for whoever was on shift that month!) as well as a nurse, beautician and makeup artist to Gramma.
Honestly, only God knows how often you were staying at someone's house during visits to NY or during weekend trips at college. You were like a favorite piece of carry-on luggage—always welcome, always in transit, slightly rumpled but full of adventurous tales when you got to the other end.
Everyone wanted you in their home. Having that kind of broad support system really is a double-edged sword: so many open doors… and so many calendars to coordinate! But hey—at least you weren’t holed up in a Burger King bathroom or a gas station stall. Or worse, a car wash. (And if you're too young for that reference, do yourself a favor and look up the movie "Car Wash"—iconic.)
This is a beautiful comment, and I like the imaginative comparison…though I think I WILL be writing a joke about my mom calling me “luggage” 😂
Oh! And I hope somewhere in these posts you share your story about renting a U-Haul - because you hadn't reached the age to be able to rent a standard rental car but could rent a moving truck- to drive the hour from the airport to Maureen's wedding. So creative, and yet you made it and I bet you were the only one who showed up in a U-Haul truck!