TELL ME THE WAY TO GO HOME!

The three week interlude was not planned, although a trip home does not always allow time for extra curricular activities!  I did not know I was going to be 'home' quite so soon, but after my mother's passing, there were things to be done, and I needed to see my sister.  Preparing for a trip home has become stressful, once again.  I think the stress, this time, was probably due to the fact that I would be meeting my sister at my mum's house, and there would finally be closure to her passing.  The previous month and a half has been full of constant thoughts of "I must tell mum", followed by, "Oh!"  The mixed  emotions of seeing my son and my precious oldest and middle grandsons, and leaving the youngest were prolific.  I knew he would change daily and I was promised lots of pictures.  My 'big' boys will have changed too!  

The preparations were afoot as soon as I booked.  The cases were out, and the essentials bought.  I am my own worst enemy, as I buy what I know my family like, and then think, 'perhaps'.  Cereal does not weigh much but the boxes
are cumbersome.  I had thought about taking them out of the bag, but I have done that before and somewhere over the Atlantic, one of them burst, so that wont be repeated!  

After my precious hour beneath overcast skies and gusting winds, on the Sunday before my departure, I came back upstairs and prepared dinner.  My fancy for French bread pizza had been haunting me since last week, so I made one!  Unlike the delicate slices that are bought from the freezer section in the supermarket, mine was quite full and we needed a knife and fork to at least cut bits off!  It was, however, quite delicious!

Monday morning started later than I had anticipated, and I did not manage a walk.  Dana said that I should not really talk myself out of one if I wanted to go, but I told him that I was actually trying to talk myself into one!  Instead, we had coffee together and waited for Samantha to tell me she was on her way. It was a holiday.

We had not planned to spend all day out at the mall, and actually didn't spend all day there.  The sales were too amazing to miss, and more packing would have to be done!  The boys were going to have some very nice jackets for the remainder of the winter!  We didn't spend all day there, as I said, but the traffic on the way back was horrendous.  Little did I know that the the phrase, 'an horrendous journey back' would be a theme!  We had travelled less than a mile when the traffic came to a complete standstill.  Larger vehicles were driving down the hard shoulder and exiting on to the service road, via a mud track that had been made in the grass that separated the Interstate from the frontage road.  "Shall I go?" said Samantha.  Usually, I am opposed to the idea, as the legality is somewhat questionable. In fact there is no question to the legality but more to whether those who have the power will enforce it.  We shrieked with joy as we headed down the slope and on to the almost clear road.  It was a good thing we had taken the chance, as we travelled for about four 'exits' before seeing that the Interstate had been closed and traffic had been taken down to one lane and was being filtered off into our road.  By the time I arrived home, there was no time to repack my bags, but simply to dump and have dinner!

Jerry drove me to the airport on Thursday afternoon.  The week had been fairly busy, and the packing had finally been distributed between three cases.  I had managed to add a couple of pairs of jeans and tops for me to wear!  Thank goodness for space saver bags!  Little did I know that the phrase 'Thank goodness for....' would become a theme!

My cases were not as heavy as I had thought they might be, but just cumbersome.  I manoeuvred very well the four cases  to the desk,(including my carry on,) and negotiated security without a problem. I waited for my flight to Denver, which was the best option I could find when booking, and boarded when called.  From Denver to London, I ate and slept and watched a couple of films.  Arriving at Heathrow, my phone was working, and I called Richard to say I had landed.  Immigration was quick, and customs empty.  I got in the lift, got out at the right floor, and found the bus to the car rental facility waiting for me. I could not believe how quick was the process, compared to previous visits.  I argued with the representative, (which has become the equivalent of famed Mediterranean bartering,) as I did not want an automatic car, nor an upgrade, and was willing to have an excess on my insurance.  I was as firm as was he when debating options. He lost!  "I did not think all these bags would fit into this size car", he commented, as he had previously told me that they would not, and I was adamant they would.  "This is not my first rodeo", I countered!

The drive to my accommodation was uneventful, and Steph opened the door and gave me a big hug.  I had been asked if I minded staying in the 'playroom' as she did not want the boys to be in the same room during school time.  Their grandfather had been staying with them for a couple of weeks before he came to see his youngest grandson, and had been 'put up' in said room.  After I had unpacked, Steph came in and asked what I was doing.  It appeared that Ollie had insisted 'grandma' stay in his room as she had been on a long journey and he wanted me to be comfortable.  Gotta love that boy!  Sharing a room with his brother during school term time would be fine, and they would behave themselves; they promised their mum!

Picking the boys up from school was one of the highlights of my trip and they were so pleased to see me.  They were even more pleased to see the snacks, cereal and (always surprisingly) the clothes, especially the jackets!  I could not think of a worse present as a young child! However, when I was a young child, clothes were simply clothes, and not so much of a statement!  Fleecy tops and 'cool' track suits were tried on with such enthusiasm, I was beaming from ear to ear.  By the time Richard arrived home, everything was unpacked, tidied up and then brought out again for 'daddy' to peruse!

My twelve days were full. My sister came to Steph for a manicure on Saturday morning, and we then drove back to her house to drop off her car.  Arriving back at my mum's bungalow, we went in and walked around each room, aimlessly.  We opened cupboards, draws and wardrobes, and decided that tomorrow was another day and we would have to come back more focused.  We had lunch at her house and really enjoyed the afternoon together, discussing our plan for the following day.

Organised as we were the following day, focused we were not.  As time was of the essence, we decided to start in the bedroom and work our way around.  As we were looking through the wardrobe, Elise found an old tape recorder, with a cassette.  The batteries were still live and we listened as our dad recounted stories of his youth.  We both remembered him making the recording.  When he had lost his mother, he and his brother told stories to extended family members and friends about their childhood. Someone suggested he put it down on tape, which he did.  They told of a song they made up about an old neighbour who apparently constantly (verbally) fought with his wife. As we emptied and sorted, we sang.  It was a bitter sweet time.

After a couple of hours, we had divided a lot of spoil and vowed to come back the following weekend to 'finish' off as best we could.  Once everything was 'divvied' up, she would come with the kids to empty the house.  At first, we felt quite mercenary, and intrusive, going through all my parents' belongings, but then I remembered what my mother had said.  "You are right", said my sister.  "Mum made us promise that we would come here, just us two, and we would have to 'sort it all out' between us.  That is what we are doing".  There was no 'bartering', we just sorted and sifted.  The kids had all expressed an item or two that they wanted, thankfully not the same thing, and the boys were certain and rather practical, the girls wanted memories.  Nearly seven decades of accumulating, and it did literally boil down to, "Who wants what?"  It is life!  Mum and dad's life!  We laughed at some of the items they cherished, which the next two generations found abhorrent.  "Do you want this?" and "Do you mind if I have this?" was basically all we said, apart from singing the ditty about the warring neighbours!

It was exhausting, perhaps moreso emotionally, although we laughed continually, with memories of childhood coming back to us.  Although we did not grow up in the bungalow, our children spent many happy hours there.  "Do you remember..?" was added to the few phrases spoken during the morning.

We had been to the stone mason earlier in the morning, after parking on a yellow line, running across to the deli, buying lunch, and giggling like teenagers.  I insisted on paying for lunch.  "Why?  We can go halves", said Elise.  "I owe you", I said.  "This is no where near enough then!" she countered, and we giggled again!  This was it.  We were now 'it'.  We remembered my mother's words.  "Don't argue.  Stay friends".  

I babysat Sunday evening, and put the boys to bed.  I missed this part of their growing up.  Anyone who has children in a different part of the world will understand the hardship.  However, thank goodness for technology.  I am welcomed with open arms, and at least they know who I am.  

The week flew by.  I was not able to contact many people with whom I hoped to 'catch up', but did see some.  Those who knew my mum came to see me and it was wonderful to hear their memories. 

A trip home would not be complete without taking Steph and the boys to Costco!  We filled the trolley with things for Sunday lunch, as Steph had asked the family round, and we were going to have a 'get together'.  It is like a grotto for the boys, and whilst 'shopping' is not normally their thing, they appeared to have a great time.  Admittedly, we have bribed them with the 'book section', and each picked their choice.  "No!  We are not buying cereal!" said Steph, as Jamie entered the aisle and found an enormous box of something that looked interesting, although I am not sure he was aware of the contents.  

Breakfast each morning was toast with 'Grandma's' bread, the white starchy supermarket loaf, which is considered 'unhealthy' in the modern vernacular, but was all I grew up with.  As much as the boys run around and burn energy, I am sure it will not hurt.  Cereal from 'over here' is also burnt off quicker than it takes to eat!

My second Saturday started with a trip to the swimming baths.  Jamie had his lesson and then we headed home.  Ollie did not want to go to his Saturday morning self-defense lesson, so I helped with homework. Daddy came home early afternoon, and I got ready to go out.  

Growing up in a cul-du-sac, we were very friendly with the family who lived opposite.  In fact, our father's would refer to each other as "Mr. (surname) from opposite".  The family consisted of parents, a son and a daughter.  Stephen and I were engaged when we were five and six.  Elise and Leslee were nearly three years younger than us. As they were unable to come to mum's funeral, they wanted to see us and Elise had arranged to meet them on the day I flew home, not realising I was not around for two weeks.  Leslee invited me to dinner, and Stephen collected me around six thirty.  Stephen had kept in constant contact with mum after dad died.  We spent hours reminiscing and laughing about our childhood, remembering our parents, and their very close friendship.  I never wanted the evening to end. Promising to keep in touch, however, it did end, and Stephen took me back to Richard and Steph.  I found it difficult to sleep as I remembered what an amazing childhood we really did have!

After a wonderful lunch on Sunday, Richard and I went back to the bungalow, with the boys.  They were a little anxious about entering but once they did, they found a memory that they wanted.  Ollie took a family picture. He wanted it in his bedroom to remind him of 'Grandma', and Jamie found a picture of all (well most) of the great grandchildren taken at mum's ninetieth birthday tea.  It was a good moment.

All too quickly, it was time to go.  No more school runs, no more trips to the bungalow and no more English bread!  I left the house and headed to the airport.  Dana had warned me that the weather was inclement.  I told him that I had been defrosting the car each day, because of the thick frost, and going on walks with Steph and the dog, through icy, fields which had turned to thick gloopy mud! (Not to mention the trip across the stream that had been caused through melted ice, and nearly sinking in the mud, and then hauling Steph out with a branch!)  I would soon see quite how bad it really was.  As I said, little did I know that the the phrase, 'an horrendous journey back' would be a theme! 

The flight was on time, and all appeared well.  The ability to message whilst mid-air has its advantages, or perhaps dis-advantages. Samantha messaged to say that my ten o'clock flight from Houston to Austin had been cancelled.  The weather had become quite fierce and people were told to stay off the roads.  Temperatures were dropping to just below freezing, but there had been a lot of rain, and ice storms were in the forecast.  Dana had apparently got home, but the slope by the side of our unit was becoming an ice rink as we spoke (or typed). I managed to get myself on an earlier flight but within minutes that, too, was cancelled.  "Do you want me to come and get you?" asked my daughter.  I saw no reason for her to do so, although was a little concerned about spending a night in the airport. "I am sure something will get sorted", I said.  

I started to feel a little unwell.  I had eaten a considerable amount, but was sure that was not the problem.  (Perhaps it contributed!)  What would I do?  I knew people in Houston, through work, but of course did not have any numbers.  I was sure the 'help desk' would be of 'help'.  I sat in my seat, concerned.  I could not concentrate on the films I was watching, and when we landed, I called Dana to find out what was going on.  Samantha had asked if he could watch the dogs, whilst she came to pick me up, but he said it was not sensible to go out in the bad weather, and she would not make it up the slope, let alone down the steep, winding hill that led to our complex.  

I had not experienced a queue as long for immigration for many, many years.  In fact, I think the last time I did so was before we emigrated, and about four flights arrived at the same time.  The waiting time was about two hours.  People were fraught as they had connections, and I felt unwell.  I was not only tired, but jet lagged, and very, very hot.  After about half an hour, and moving perhaps two rows along the 'post office' lines, in a twenty row deep scenario, in a very, very wide building, I called to a security guard and asked if I could go to the bathroom.  I just wanted to let them know as I did not want to re-enter the hall and have to queue up from the back.  He let me out, and another security guard asked if I needed assistance.  No, just a bathroom!

Returning, I was ushered back into the queue, behind another woman, who had also seen fit to leave the line, and noticed that I was at least five rows in front of a woman I had noticed, who was four rows in front of me before I exited.  If looks could kill....!  I turned away, but felt her eyes burning through me.  Finally, I reached the front.  Handing in my passport and Green Card, the officer greeted me. "Hey Tracie, how ya doin'"  I replied I was doing well, and asked him the same.  "Busy" he said. He commented on my hat, told me to stay safe, and wished me well.  My bags were waiting for me.  

The line for the 'help-desk' was long.  People were fraught. A young man was angry with a representative as he had missed his flight to Cancun.  "Tomorrow!  I want to go tonight!  I don't want to go tomorrow!" he screamed, with a few obscenities thrown in for good measure.  I must say, she was stoic in her response.  "There are no more flights out tonight.  Nothing I can do.  Tomorrow is the best I can offer".  He was not happy, but there was nothing he could do either.  I reached the desk.  Helpful the service was not.  I was given a new boarding card and told I would have to find a hotel.  I was not offered accommodation but given a card which I could scan to get a discount.   Was their any accommodation available?  Well, she didn't know, nor did she seem to care.  Admittedly, it was not her job to find me accommodation, but the other representatives were all giving advice to their passengers.  I would, apparently, have to take a shuttle to the hotel from Terminal C  I could get there by train.  Of course, I would have to call the hotel to find out if they had room, which was touch and go considering all the people that had come through previously that evening.  It was nearly 9pm, and I was stuck!  I called Samantha and gave her an update.  "That's it!" she said.  "Edward, get the dogs, I will get the baby ready.  We are going to Houston!  I knew I should not have listened to Dana!  We could have been there by now!  Stay put.  I am coming to get you".  Little did I know the phrase, 'Thank goodness for....' had become a theme!

I made my way out of the 'connections' area, and into the arrivals hall, where people were waiting for loved ones, etc.  I sat down, realised I was by a door that was continually opening into harsh winds, got up and moved to the interior.  I dozed on and off for three hours. I spent a short while chatting (or listening) to a woman who lived in Houston, but who's daughter had met a chap from Kent, whom she was going to marry, and they were going to set up home in England.  Her daughter was an illustrator and had illustrated a wonderful book, that their pastor had written.  Their pastor was affiliated with a hospice, and the book was about remembering the departed.  It was not a morbid book but very sweet, and they hoped children would find comfort for it.  I smiled and nodded at the appropriate times.  I never knew the phrase, "Thank goodness for....." had become a theme!  Thank goodness for the arrival of her daughter, as I was not doing particularly well.

Of course, I knew that had I been put in the situation where no one could collect me, I would have sat down, perhaps cried for a minute or two and then told myself to stop being stupid.  I was an intelligent woman who could deal with this, and then arranged either through myself, Samantha or Dana, a hotel, (perhaps not the latter as there would have been too many questions, bless him,) made my way to the shuttle, spent the night, and dealt with the next day as seemed fit!

"We are driving up to Terminal E" said Samantha.  She had called me and woken me up from a doze.  I realised that the airport that had been quite full when I had dozed off, was now empty.  There were three of us. I walked out, made my way down the ramp, and stood at a gap in the railings.  "Flash your lights", I said as I saw a vehicle approaching.  It was her.  As she got out of the truck, I burst into tears.  "What's the matter", said Edward, from inside.  "She's crying. Come and get these cases", she said, matter-of-factly!  Move over Julie Andrews.  I am sorry, but my daughter is my new heroine!

Heading home, I felt relieved.  We stopped at Buc'ees (of course) where we had a bathroom break, and fed the baby.  Then we continued on our way.  'Thank goodness for....'.  This time it was 'travel sickness bags'.  Samantha had bought several when she got pregnant, just in case, and had since used them for water for the dogs in the car.  "Pull over!" I said, and she instinctively handed me a bag.  I felt a lot better and we went on our way.  

'An horrendous journey back' made its way into the vocabulary again. We managed to get almost home, or at least back to her house, as my home was not an option, when the storm hit.  Sleet pelted at the truck, and the roads became quite slippery.  Edward had taken the wheel as Samantha was feeling sleepy, and the three hours drive home became four and a half.  I fell into bed exhausted, and let everyone know I was safe.  

The next morning, I released the remains of whatever it was that had affected my stomach, and my daughter found me lying on the bathroom floor.  "What's wrong?" asked Edward.  "Nothing.  She doesn't feel well." said Samantha, refreshing my water, and bringing me a couple of plain biscuits (cookies) that she had bought should she suffer from morning sickness, which she did not. "Oh, your flight was cancelled", said Samantha.  "None available until tonight".  I went back to bed and slept until a little after three thirty.

Feeling refreshed, and raring to go, despite there being no where to go, I called Dana, who was still at home.  There was no way he could make it to the office.  Trees had fallen due to the pressure of the ice, and roads were blocked.  The tree that I had told the 'association' needed trimming, that stood behind my condo, no longer needed trimming.  Branches had snapped, thankfully away from the units, and lay in the road.  Some trees had been uprooted with the weight of the ice.  Edward had managed to get to work, as their town was not quite as badly affected as Austin.  We spent the rest of the afternoon and evening going through my bags to give Samantha her share of 'Grandma's' house.  All flights from Houston to Austin were now cancelled, and I would have had to wait until at least Friday evening to have a chance of getting on a standby list!

Staying in my temporary accommodation, I met 'Alexa'.  Samantha asked her to turn on lights, music and turn off the same.  I never met her, but when I asked her to turn off the lights in the front room, she did.  I am convinced she is married to the man who turns the light on and off in the fridge!  

'Thank goodness for....' a change in the weather.  It heated up, somewhat, Thursday.  'Thank goodness for....' quick thinking and putting the truck on the road, out of the drive, as the next door neighbour's tree lost several branches, all of which fell on Samantha's drive, where the truck would have sat! I heard it snap around three in the morning.  Everywhere was a mess.  

We made it to the office, where my bags were transferred and I worked for the next few hours.  Dana finally brought me home, after picking up a couple of sandwiches from a local deli, as I was not sure what I should cook, and had obviously not taken anything out of the freezer.  I cared not about the state of the house as he had not done any cleaning (nor did I expect him to) but it was tidy and that was a plus.  

I unpacked on Friday morning, left a terrible mess as I did not put anything away, went to work, returned and babysat for little Teddy as the kids had a surprise 40th birthday party to attend.  Saturday we went shopping and I spent the afternoon clearing away the debris that had been made upon my arrival back 'home'!

Sitting here, Sunday afternoon, with the sun shining and the weather a balmy seventy degrees, if it was not for the debris that was still visual (Raul and the gardeners managed to clear an enormous amount on Friday) it would not appear that there had been any upheaval. I had met a few neighbours on Saturday afternoon, two of whom did not have power, and two of whom did not have Internet, but the rest were reasonably unscathed.  

Teddy is currently asleep next to me, as I type, as the kids have gone to a performance of Cirque Du Soleil.  They seem to do more now they have Teddy than they did before, although Samantha did comment that I was not privy to all they did before!  The two phrases, 'horrendous journey' and 'thank goodness for' are still very fresh in my mind, but Austin appears to be back on track!  I had a wonderful visit 'home', which was perhaps the most relaxed I have had in years, despite the school runs, laundry, washing up, clearing away, and general household tasks, which I was delighted to do and help with. I  did not have to run from one place to another.  I did not have to 'visit' Rich and Steph and I did not have to 'visit' my mum.  

I never felt the closure I thought I would, going into the bungalow, although I did feel a sense of loss as I drove to get petrol on the last day and called Elise to say I was coming to say 'cheerio'.  We had said our farewell's on Sunday and I had not anticipated going to see her at her office as I usually would because they have moved and are a bit off the beaten track now, but I felt that I should.  It was just us two now.  We are the matriarchs, and we are the older generation.  It felt odd.  I did wonder if I had closure before mum's passing as she had not really been 'mum' for a long time.  Perhaps going back again, when everything is gone, and the bungalow sold, I will find it harder.  Perhaps not.  All I can hope is that next week will be less traumatic, and I will find another set of phrases for .......... another story!