The Menu on the Wall

 

The travel bug is very much back in my brain as I'm counting down the days toward driving to Florida next month.

The stories can last for hours.

We first went to visit my niece in North Carolina in 2014 and, admittedly, it was a risk.

Too many days with family can turn ugly, especially when sharing a space as we'd be doing at their house in Fayetteville.

And handling my mom and Sean would be its own challenge. The simplest explanation is that I had to wrangle both of them. At times it was babysitting even though they were both largely self-sufficient.

Indeed, no more than ten minutes in we had a slight issue involving a missing DVD player. Grumpiness ensued, time was lost, and all was eventually well.

Still, at 5:45 a.m., the last thing you want to hear is, "Daddy, where's my DVD player?"

"I thought you had it."

"No."

And then things turned snide in classic Nancy fashion at the bagel place where we grabbed breakfast. 

I'm proud to say it was also the only tangle we had in the numerous trips that we went on.

Those trips to and from North Carolina are pretty sacred to both Sean and me. It's a part of why we continue to go to this day, along with how comfortable we are there.

It works really well and we're making sure to spend a night there each way to and from Florida.

As Mom began to slow down, Kristy and Hector insisted that we use some hotel points and get a room to cut down on the stress. On the couple of occasions we did it, both Elkton, MD and Ashland, VA were our stops.

The last time we did the trip, we stopped in Virginia and stayed for the night.

A Waffle House was across the street because of course there was.

And, of course, that's where breakfast would be.

At that point in the trip, I wasn't even pushing for breakfast there. 

Mom was.

We had a table in the corner, closer to the front of the restaurant where traffic rolled by on VA State Route 54.

A local personality stood on the sidewalk with an American flag, waving to passing motorists. 

Our waitress told us she frequently did that. The whole scene had a certain small-town charm to it.

Sean and I studied our menus for the same humorous reason. In truth, we both know the order. No matter how many times I look at it, it's always an All-Star Special with a plain waffle, scrambled eggs, and hashbrowns with cheese, ham, white toast, and coffee.

That scene will be repeated a few times next month and it will be glorious.

Like many kids, I had a collection of menus when I was little, so I could play restaurant. Eventually, the menus all disappeared.

But as I sat in the Waffle House in Ashland, VA, well...

Leave it to Mom. Without us saying a thing (and, in fact, often when we did say a thing, as in to NOT say a thing), she engaged the waitress.

She began her questioning about what happens to the menus and how she could get, oh, two.

"Just take the ones on your table," came the reply.

To that end, they each got wiped down, making sure they were clean.

So when people ask me why I have a Waffle House menu hanging on my wall, now you know.

It's a tribute to Waffle House.

And Mom. Of course.

Mom and Sean, 2014

Our first couple of trips without her were awkward. Our first one -- to Pennsylvania the February after she died -- was also disastrous. It was clear we had a ghost in the back seat and didn't know how to handle it. Moods were off and we considered just driving home.

The mood turned and we were fine. It's actually a treasured experience now but there was a point of boredom (not from me, for the record) before we figured it out.

The first North Carolina trip after she died was also an adjustment but we learned from the Pennsylvania experience. 

More than anything, we realized humor would be the key.

We began to laugh about garbage. 

Yes, really.

It was a Nancy staple, where her hand would come out of the back seat, bag normally present to give her any trash.

Classic.

These are the stories that will be at the heart of the drive to and from Florida in March.