My husband and I had very different childhoods. While I moved around the country and attended
different schools, leaving a trail of friends behind, he lived in the same
town, attending the same schools all of his life. So, when we go back to his home town, the
adults we visit – whose children play with our children – are the same people
he met on a playground.
After the last class reunion, a plan was hatched to meet up
for a multi-family camping trip. Sounded
great to me, so the date was on our calendar for months. Schedules were planned around this
event. And then…
His grandfather was not doing well for a while. After a hearty, full life, at 88 years of
age, his heart was failing and we knew that he’d be leaving us soon. There were many trips to the hospital, he was
moved to hospice care and we were prepared for the sad phone call that was sure
to come. And then it did.
These times are always loaded with the many decisions that
must quickly be made. When and how to
travel, juggling kid schedules, and so on.
We also had to figure out what to do about our camping trip plan. We talked to the kids and prepared them for
the idea that it would be cancelled.
They were very good about it and understood that we needed to think
about Abuela and Tio and honoring Abuelo was the most important thing.
Meanwhile, in South Florida ,
the family was thinking about my husband.
Considering his normal schedule (nights and weekends), they arranged the
funeral mid-week, so he could get back home and not miss work. Of course, not knowing about our original
weekend plans, they made it all possible for us and unveiled the silver lining.
We strategized and stared at calendars and considered all
the options and decided that, if we were going to pull kids from school, this
was the week to do it, so we began scrambling.
List-writing, organizing, packing, and then checked the girls out of
school early.
They were surprised, of course, because this day also
happened to be one daughter’s birthday.
We explained what we had in mind and had to apologize that her requested
Italian restaurant dinner would have to be postponed. They were likely too stunned to be
disappointed, and jumped right into action.
We packed, we prepared, and we loaded and we were on the highway by late
afternoon. As we pulled away, I declared
that this would be our Lemonade Trip. Yes, the reason for our journey was sad, but
we were going to have fun, too!
A couple of hours into the trip, I remembered that there was
a location for an Italian chain that is no longer in our area. Lemon Squeeze #1 – the birthday girl still
got her alfredo! Score!
When we arrived at our destination, there was time for a
splash in the pool but the girls understood that this day was about Abuelo and
that they’d be bored while we took care of business and so there’d be more
lemonade on the other side. Obviously,
there was sadness and grief, but there were also hugs and affection from
favorite relatives who gushed appropriately.
After the funeral, there was Cuban food at the favorite
family restaurant, and then we journeyed to Grandma’s house. This is a bit of a drive along a highway
lined with sugar cane and canals. As
long as we’ve been making this drive, we occasionally see a gator or two in the
canals. Not on this day! I don’t know if it was the time of day, the
weather, or the planetary alignment, but we spied 40-50 (lost exact count) gators
along the way. For the 7 year old, that
was a major Lemon Squeeze!
After spending the night with Grandma, complete with a
carrot feeding visit to the horse and a chance to romp with her dogs, we were
back on the road. We were still a day
early for our camping reservations, but still ready to have fun so at the first
turnpike stop, we raided the brochure racks for our next adventure. Orlando and
Ripley’s Believe It Or Not
Museum won the Lemonade
prize. We were appropriately amazed,
amused, and educated before continuing our expedition.
After one final night of rest in real beds with pillows and
modern conveniences, we finally arrived at the final sweet ingredient of our
Lemonade Trip. There, at the campground
on the Suwannee River, we reunited with my husband’s old friends, their
children, and settled in for a weekend of Remember Whens, What Nows, and fun on
the river with the littles and not-so littles.
All sadness aside, the trip couldn’t have ended in a nicer
way. As a kid, my family had a group of
families we did these things with and those are some of my fondest memories. My husband’s friends are wonderful (as my
mother put it, this is his tribe!) and we all had such a good time (I don’t
think it was just because of the beer and S’Mores) that we declared that this
should be a regular thing.
I couldn’t agree more and I’m ready for the next time. I do have one caveat, however. Next time, let’s skip the sour part of the
Lemonade. Maybe next time, we’ll go with
Mojitos instead.
Los amamos, Abuelo, gracias por la hermosa familia que nos
dio.
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