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We leave tomorrow for the ‘family vacation’. It will be the first one where we are driving somewhere instead of flying. You’d think with my fear of flying I’d be pleased, but no. You see, I’m afraid of cars, too. Not as afraid, thank God, but still nervous. My mother dying in one I think has something to do with this particular phobia.
Jonathon and I have both felt very anxious about the trip, and I finally figured out why. Because driving reminds us of all those awful family vacations where you’re trapped in the car with people who love you, but don’t always like you, and you’re going some place that you didn’t choose, and really don’t want to go. I think I had one vacation my entire childhood that was a pleasant experience. Maybe more, but the one that stands out was the one where my Uncle Toots (Elbert), and my Aunt Bev, took me with them and their children, my cousins Brett and Denise, to one of the Carolina’s. Even that trip had it’s ups and downs, but you had three teenagers in a car. Come to think of it Aunt Bev and Uncle Toots were pretty brave to take us. I don’t know about you but I was pretty damned moody at thirteen.
Oh, well. I’ve got to get back to work, and then finish packing.