I went to visit my grandfather all last week. It was good to see him again.
I was exhausted before leaving, what with work and all. May was an extremely stressful and sad month and I was very glad to have an entire week with no schedule (other than the planes) and no expectations. I'd sent my toiletries, presents for Gpa, a book or two, and a project a week ahead of time via UPS and the SpaceBags allowed me to stuff a very small carry-on with plenty of clothing choices!
My friend and co-worker picked me up at my house and drove me to the airport - she got to my house at 3:45am. Yep, that's what I said, my flight was at 6:00am so I had to be there early for security purposes. I made her Spaghetti Bread and filled half her tank - she was looking forward to driving me the entire week before, mostly excited about the gas. She was very awake and cheerful. A great send-off and start to the vacation!
Strange for me, I had absolutely no trip anxiety on the way down, that's how numb I was. I didn't worry about getting to the airport on time, I didn't worry about the plane, I didn't rush like a mad person to my connection in Detroit, I didn't even crack a book the whole way there. Strange and indicative of how "not me" I was feeling.
Gpa met me in the short term parking lot and we hugged hard, we'd both missed each other very much. We didn't talk much in the car, his barely hearing ear is on the opposite side of the passenger seat and it takes much effort on my part to get him to understand what I'm saying and I just couldn't summon the energy to sustain a long conversation. Besides, I wanted him to be able to concentrate on his driving. We did get lost trying to find CiCi's but we managed to find it after much driving up, down, back, and around. It was basically a case of him having a mental picture of where CiCi's was but he couldn't find the right street to match. We did ask for directions from a very nice man who I mentally sent blessings to to have a kick-ass day after he drove off.
Back at his house, Gpa was pooped after the whole driving around deal and while he took a nap, I drove to my usual used book store up the street to stock up on vacation reading material. I found some good finds and then tooled over to the store to buy MY groceries (stuff for b-fast and lunch, OJ, skim milk, and a big jug of spring water coz his water tastes like dirt) coz his cupboard is bare except for things that should be crawling away or would kill me to eat as I don't have his food immunities.
The whole week alternated between Gpa feeling rather good and feeling pooped. Which was fine by me, I was pooped mentally and physically and finally started feeling rested by Wednesday. I made him one big meal - crockpot chuck roast in mushroom soup overnight on low and mashed potatoes - and pumpkin cookies with choc chips. We had leftovers one night, Wendy's another, then Baker's Square, and then the last night was a toss-together of plain angel hair pasta.
Making the cookies was definitely an adventure I don't want to repeat - the vanilla was older than me and unrefridgerated as well, the eggs were way past the time they should have been still in the fridge (I had to smell them to make sure they could be used), and I never figured out how old the baking powder was but I'm pretty sure they don't have that box design anymore or had it any time soon. I wasn't entirely sure whether the cookies would give either me or Gpa the shits but they turned out to be good - both in taste and easy on the gut.
I trimmed his hedges, untangled the dog leashes at least a thousand times, thoroughly cleaned his kitchen, cleaned the bathroom I use, slept in, napped, read, sat in the sun (and got Gpa to as well), doodled on his computer to fix things he wanted fixed and to find things for him (like the coupon for the converter box for digital reception), and showered him with attention. I made him cookie ice-cream shakes and loaded him up with cheap cookies.
All in all, he put me on the plane rested and ready to come back to my home and kitties. I think I may try to get out to see him the end of summer or the beginning of fall. He said he wished I could have stayed longer. I did too, but I really wanted to come home, I missed my nest. I didn't take any pictures of him this time. He was too tired for that and I would rather have pictures of him when he had more vitality. It makes me sad that he fixes his dogs better meals than he fixes himself.
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