Big Family Vacation 2025, Day -3

Here's the wine rack in the 2019-renovated kitchen of our 1927 home, decorated with an early birthday card my lifelong BFF sent. Her granddaughter picked it out, having never met me, and it has musical notes on it!!! I'm seventeen days from turning 75 years of age. I've spent the past nineteen months planning this trip, a terrific adventure for my sons, myself, and our people, as they say on "Grey's Anatomy." The boys' father and I divorced when they were around ages 8 and 6. Now they are ages 52 and 50. We three have not take a "family" vacation since they were teenagers. If I spend too long thinking about this upcoming trip, my eyes fill with tears. These two men have become wonderful adults: ethical, loving, hard-working. I am very lucky to be their mom. I'm going to enjoy this trip so very much.

For this trip, rather than be anxious about leaving my old house empty, I've asked a recent YSU graduate, a theatre major whom I accompanied for his voice performances throughout his undergrad career, if he and his girlfriend (now fiancée 😘) would house- and plant-sit for us while we're gone. They live in a small apartment not very convenient to their work locations, and were excited at the prospect of ten days in a lovely old house with lots of space and a much shorter commute.

The entire week leading up to departure was frenetic. I was constantly trying to remember and document all the little idiosyncracies of my 98-year-old house that the housesitters would need to know, while trying to straighten up the house to be presentable for guests. And packing and repacking to get just the right wardrobe for wet and cold Alaska as well as unpredictable Seattle. Not a restful week.

Tuesday, Day -4:

Remember 2022, when the winter weather was so horrible that flights were cancelled for days in a row and travelers didn't find their baggage for weeks? Ever since that time, when we travel with checked bags, we always hide Apple AirTags deep in the bag lining. Just in case. Jas and I both keep AirTags on our car keys, and swap them out before leaving for a trip. While I was busy packing in the guest room (travel staging area), he came in and asked me again about baggage tags and AirTags. I brought his keys up from the kitchen for him the use his strong fingernails to open the AirTag. He handed me the removed AirTag, then we went on talking about the trip logistics, and he stood up from the chair where he was sitting and went into the den to get some clothes out of his closet. He laid the keys (car, house, JCC gym pass, YMCA gym pass) in his opened top dresser drawer rather than stop what he was doing to walk to the kitchen and put them back in their usual home&emdash;a handcrafted ceramic bread pan that was a years-ago gift from darling DIL Leslie. Wait! We're old. You know what's coming, don't you?!

Wednesday, Day -3:

Fast forward to the day Jas would have a pickleball game and we would drive to Cleveland to stay in the Crowne Plaza before catching a next day 4:30 a.m. shuttle to CLE. We rose around 7:00 a.m., he dressed for pickleball, and we headed to the breakfast nook for our cereal and Wordle. The clock continued advancing, and he stood up to grab his gym bag and head to the YMCA. Whoops, there were no keys in the ceramic bread pan. "Jan, have you seen my keys?"

Note that keys with attached AirTags are always findable. His keys are now somewhere in that 2500 sq. ft. house with no tracker attached! I said, "Good thing you've got a spare fob," which he quickly grabs, heading to his car to be on time for his game. He hadn't used that spare fob in months and it was ... wait for it ... dead. I tell him to take my car. But then he realizes he doesn't have his YMCA hang tag, which is on his key ring. I have a YMCA membership, also, so he says the desk clerks at the Y never watch the photos that pop up on their computers when someone enters. As long as they hear a beep, they're happy. So my car, my keys, my Y hang tag, and Jas and his pickleball paddle head to the Y.

After the game he swings by the grocery store to grab a couple of items, then comes home. I have checked numerous places while he was gone, but no keys. When we get home from Alaska in ten days, he's leaving again the next morning to drive to North Caroline with a friend in the friend's car, so no keys needed. After that, if the keys haven't surfaced, he'll go buy a new fob or get a new battery for the dead fob.

We're a very short time from leaving to drive to Cleveland. He opens the top drawer of his dresser to get a hanky for his pocket, and I hear him start laughing. The keys, Boss, the keys!!! Within twenty minutes, we're in the car driving to Cleveland.

We check into the hotel and schlep our six bags (two checked, two carry-ons, two personal items) to the room. We walk into the room and it r*e*e*k*s of cigarette smoke. Some very naughty guest has made it impossible for me to sleep in this room without waking with a migraine. Damn. I go to the desk and explain the situation, and the clerk carefully chooses another—more suitable—room for migraineur me.

I grab the trolley and we move the bags to the new room, which is hot from the afternoon sun with the A/C off. We turn the A/C way up and go down to dinner. Neither of us was very hungry, after the turmoil of the day. We both got the turkey club. And when our plates arrive, they were huge! We should have gotten one to share. I groaned and kind of picked mine apart with a fork. Then we went back upstairs, where I unpacked and repacked again to see how much stuff I could extract without regretting it. I solemnly swear that I will figure out how to architect an appropriate wardrobe before our next cruise (January of 2026, if you're interested.) I've been doing this for too long to do it so poorly.

We set out our clothes for the next day and fall asleep.