I’m alive! And so is my dad. We survived a 14-hour road trip to St. Petersburg, Fla., over New Year’s with an overnight in exotic Valdosta, Ga. Though it was an impromptu decision to join him, I am so glad I did. Memories were made, people!
We ate Egg McMuffis in an uncharacteristically dirty McDonald’s somewhere in rural Tennessee, pondering our chances of winning Mega Millions. We enjoyed the last dinner of 2018 at Red Lobster, surrounded by blue hairs and cheddar bay biscuits. And we witnessed a small fender bender in a rest area near Ocala where the victim went from yelling about her car to hugging the old man that had hit her and insisting he get out of the sun. There is goodness in the world!
Plus, I learned a few things about my father. For instance, he does not tolerate inferior paper products. Kleenex or Puffs only, please. Also, that his first concert was Elvis. Elvis! And finally, that he spent a gap year in London before gap years were cool. In the ’60s. So, my father was basically Austin Powers.
True, Dad still gets anxious when I drive, as if I’m 16 again, wedging the Ford LTD wagon between our house and the neighbor’s fence. And he snores, often quite robustly. But on balance, my father is the perfect traveling companion. He’s comfortable with silence, enjoys the music of the Margaritaville channel and pays for everything.
Bottom line, friends? If you ever have the chance to spend quality time with a parent, do it!They’re not going to be around forever, but your memories will.