Vacation

 My dad often tells us that mom knew it was really important to start traveling with us kids. She said before they knew it, we would be out of the house, so she wanted to make memories while she could. She had a travel agent, but her and our dear family friend Mrs. Roberts scoured Fodor’s for the best hotels and excursions so that they could have a blueprint of what we would be doing. Our bookcase was stocked with worn travel books from all over the world. Little notes in the margins with times we would arrive at a place or if it was miserable. Those vacations are some of my very best memories of my mom. She worked so hard to make them wonderful. And even when things got mixed up or a flight was delayed, that was all part of the adventure. 

Things are more complicated now. It should be easier, right? It’s not. There are so many sites that once you fall down a “vacation hole” as Rob calls them, it can be impossible to decide which choice is best. 


Well, in honor of my mom and her old school vacation planning, I am starting my own little travel agency. HunniHound Travel will be linked to my bookshop. My mom always had a mix of some fancy hotels or high ends dinners, together with some good bargains. AND of course there will ALWAYS be a bookshop stop in my itineraries! 

Because mom would want that.

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Fifty

  My sister turned fifty years old this week so I thought I would share some fascinating facts about Heather.  She has seen Poltergeist ninety times. Poltergeist was our It’s a Wonderful Life. It brought our family together. When we arrived at Walt Disney World one year, what was the first thing we did after the long ride? Curl up with cookies and Poltergeist of course. She attended sixty concerts in high school. Many alongside my dad. Poison, Cinderella, Neil Diamond, you name the band, she’s probably seen them.  When she was in high school, her Toyota Celica had a pile of tapes so high in the front passenger seat, My knees touched my chin anytime I rode shotgun.  Heather has an unheard of vocal range. I was so jealous. She has an amazing gift that she rarely shares. I remember all these professors coming to hear her range at one of her vocal lessons.  She’s smart. Scary smart. Like should be leading a criminal organization smart. Or maybe she is, and you just don’t know it. In high s
Read more

Mama

  Today my mom is dying. All I could see when I walked  into her room was that little girl. That scruffy little girl sitting in the grass. Smirking at the camera.  I gave her lots of kisses goodbye. One for each grandchild she helped me raise. One for each friend of mine she loved like her own. One for each time she made me laugh. Or yell. Or cry. Or smile. Or feel loved.  Driving home Heather and I saw the most incredible sunset. It was beautiful and messy and bright and clinging to its moment in the sky.  I will remember beautiful loud Christmas Eve parties. Her quiet strength with Ziggy and Charlie. How she loved my friends. That she was flawed but always full of generosity. I will try my best to do her proud. 
Read more

Holding Hands through Hell

   We’ve been tied up in a shit storm the past few months. My husband had serious spinal surgery. Then he got an infection. Then he got pneumonia. Then I had heart failure. Then my mom died.  Am I missing anything? In the midst of it all, I’ve cried and laughed and tried to make sense of it all with my friends and family. At one point I said, “Well, at least we’re all holding hands through hell.” It kind of resonated with them. Because that’s kind of all we have isn’t it? Life doesn’t really care sometimes. And all you can do is grip tightly to the things and people around you. And hope they grip back. Thank God I have people that have not only held onto me tight, but dragged me through the flames of these seasons in my life.  I know there is a light ahead. The path out of Hell is near. But honestly I’m not even looking anymore. All I can do is close my eyes and hope for the best. It’s my friends. My friends have me and will pull me through and back where I belong. 
Read more