We are the Little Engine.

I would apologize for my lack of posts, but I think what it comes down
to is this:

Nobody’s really bothered by it
except for me.

And I’ve apologized to myself, so
all is good on this end.

A very busy month.  Holidays and final divorce hearings and busy
work related things.

My sister from Hawaii is here in
this small, vineyard town with me now, getting her Christmas time with us and is
fully enjoying the blustering wind and barren cold.  She says she hates living in Hawaii.  I’ve met several people who did not enjoy
living in Hawaii.

Still, it’s hard to imagine.

Saturday morning, long, long
before the sun came up I was in the car, toodling down the highway across the
state to the international airport I was supposed to pick her up at.  And I made it.  I was so very proud of myself.  There is an ever increasing sense of pride in
the things I find myself being able to accomplish on my own now.    Even if it is just finding the parking
garage and the right baggage claim area.  
My day to day activities are very much ex parte matters now, and when I
ask myself questions, and come up with the right answers, I’m astounded.  And grateful.

Sister and I reunited joyfully –
it has been two years since I’ve seen her – and we progressed further south,
where we were set to spend the night in a resort and spa, complete with
massages and facials the next day.  After
this year, I can very easily justify such frivolity.

Exactly 17 miles from our final
destination (so close, considering I had been traveling at that point for
eleven hours), we ran into a snow storm. 
On the coast.  Irrelevant in the long
run, as Sister and I are champion snow drivers.   Each snow flake was the size of my
fist.  Not really, but it was very
fluffy.  And accumulating quickly.  Sister and I congratulated ourselves on our
good fortune – we really were having a Christmas get away.

I guess the point it became
relevant was when I realized that pushing down on the gas pedal was having no
effect and the car was dying on a busy rural highway.  The oil light came on.  Then the check engine light came on.  Then the battery light came on.   And then the car started slowing down
rapidly (aren’t these lights supposed to give me more than a 2 second warning?).  I made it to side of the road (mostly).  But was somewhat bewildered, as I had
borrowed my parents’ car specifically because I couldn’t trust that my own car
would be up to that much travel. 

After the tow truck, after
waiting for the cab for two hours in a freezing car  in the tow truck’s parking lot (watching
Sister amuse herself by drawing pictographs of our experience on the steamed up
window), (her artwork below), after opening the car door to have a gale of wind yank it out of my
grasp and force the door into the car next to it, after dropping ALL of my keys
into the drop box instead of just the car keys, after wrangling our luggage
into the cab in the heavy snow while the cabbie sat safe, warm and dry inside,
giving no thought to helping, after watching the cabbie greatly struggle to
keep  the car on the road, after
repeatedly asking myself the right questions and coming up with the right
answers (I’ve never had a car break down and I’ve never been stranded in a
strange town), we arrived, cold, wet, 
very tired, completely safe and no worse for the wear. 

From the hotel lounge, we quietly
watched the snow continue to come down, drinks in hand. 

The next day, Brother came up
from the next state down in his Big Red Truck for the Rescue.  And thoroughly enjoyed pushing through the
snow and the slush to get there.  And
thoroughly enjoyed pushing back through all the muck, dodging fallen trees,
making our way home.  Brother always has
an amazing attitude towards the out of the ordinary, and driving 8 extra hours didn’t
faze him at all.  I wonder at people like
that.

Getting to Brother’s home, Nephew
met us with Other Sister’ Car and we finished out our last 5 hours of
driving. 

And arrived home.  In blustering wind.  Exhausted. 

But with a lot of the right
answers. 

In the true tradition of Sister
Dom, First Sister gave me my birthday present at the resort.  My birthday was six months ago.  This is the way we do things.  Delighted enough with the box that said “Sephora,”
I was amazed at the vinyl bag that said “Grace.”  Oh, of all the titles of products to gift.

Grace it is.

Advertisement