Wednesday, September 8, 2010

Every mile a memory......




When I was younger, as soon as school was out for the summer, my grandparents would hop in their giant van and make the 15 hour trek from New Jersey to Georgia. They would stay for a few days and then pack my sister, brother and me into the van and we would set off on our adventure back to New Jersey. They had the patience of saints.

The three of us would argue like cats and dogs and Nana and Pop would just sit and listen. Also, mediate when necessary. Some of my fondest childhood memories of are those car trips every summer. There were the old songs that we knew all the words to cause Nana and Pop played the tapes. There were the detours through the Appalachian mountains. Pop still teases me because he knows every rest area between Georgia and New Jersey because of me.

We would spend the entire summer with them. I looked forward to the time with them every year. Sure, I missed my parents, but couldn't be sad because I was with my amazing grandparents getting spoiled. Nana would cook us anything we wanted, and man what a good cook she was.

With the summer of sadness we've had winding to a close, I am even more appreciative of all the time we got to spend with them.

It tears my heart to pieces knowing I'll never be able to pick up the phone and talk to Nana again; that Abigail won't get any summers with Nana and Pop like I did. She is so very lucky to have gotten the time she did with Nana. Most children don't get to know their great grandparents. Abigail has 5, well 4 now, that she sees on a fairly regular basis.

And, while Abigail doesn't get actual PHYSICAL time with Nana June, I'm convinced she's never far from Abigail's side. Abigail has conversations with her everytime she's in the car. It seems like car trips are going to give her some Nana memories after all. It's just more proof that they have a very special bond that not even death can break.

1 comment:

  1. That brought tears to my eyes. What a wonderful memory to have and cherish forever.

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