Going Home Again

I spent the last week in Vermont visiting my mother. She has not been doing well lately, having suffered a heart attack while visiting in California. So last Tuesday, I packed the kids in the car at 6 am, and we drove the 7 1/2 hours up to Vermont.

My mom lives in the same house that I grew up in and so my memories of childhood intertwine with those of bringing my children there to visit. I did a writing/theater class once and we had to describe a vivid memory of our childhood house. I found it difficult since I visit that house often and I have seen it change over the years. All my memories are jumbled and they are all vivid. The instructor likened my memories to a tree trunk with a center of childhood memories but with rings of other memories over the years.

One thing that hasn't changed is my mother's spirit. She insists that she is fine and willingly went along on our treks to the museum, berry-picking, to a play, and on a picnic. I hope I didn't overdo it but I'm just figuring out that delicate balance of making sure my kids are entertained while still having time for my mother.

She has mellowed over the years though, and it is fun to see. Back in the day, she could yell with the best of them; her motto was always, "Yell first, ask questions later." Now, nothing seems to bother her much. Oh, you spilled flour over the floor, oh well, I have a broom. And, of course, my children could do no wrong: There's no yelling at grandkids at Grammy's house. She hasn't, however, lost her edge when it comes to arguments and she spent a good amount of time arguing religion with my atheist husband. I chickened out of the conversation by cleaning the kitchen. While I think I still believe in God, I have trouble with organized religion. Another sign that my mother has mellowed: when I told her my issue, she just said, "Yes, I can believe that." This from the woman who attends daily mass.

Oh, and I ran into a woman that I knew from kindergarten, before kindergarten I think! Her mother still lives in the neighborhood and she was there and I came by. Talk about a blast from the past.

It's funny, going home again. I wonder what I'll feel like if the house ever gets sold to a stranger. Interestingly, where I live now in Glenside, is about 10 miles from where my parents lived 40+ years ago when they just had my oldest brother and sister (I'm the youngest of 7, like I said, Catholic). Maybe, my living here is really the coming home again.

Day Tripping

Brian and I took the kids to Dorney Park and Wildwater Kingdom yesterday. It's an amusement park and water park all in one. I may have heard of it before but it never registered on my radar until Friday, when a neighbor mentioned that his kids had gone. When I found out about it, I marched home and declared that we should go on Sunday. That's how we roll; we either do something immediately or it sits on the shelf in our brain and we repeat, mantra-like, "We really ought to go to (fill in the blank)."

The trip became more poignant when I found out that my mother had been admitted to the hospital on Friday evening because she had been throwing up. She was on a trip in California with my sister and nieces. Once at the hospital, they wanted to keep her for tests. Turns out she had a mild (if one can call it that) heart attack. She's elderly and has been through a lot in the past few years. She's in good spirits and is recovering nicely; so nicely in fact that she can return home to Vermont as planned. Anyway, with that knowledge, I kept thinking, as we walked around the park, these are the memories my children will cherish, I just want this to be a perfect day.

While I had never really been to an amusement park before, I remember waiting anxiously for each August when the Champlain Valley Fair rolled around. I went with family or friends, and we would buy the bracelets that allowed us unlimited rides. I went on the Tilt-a-Whirl, the Scrambler, the Musik Express. A few years ago, I began visiting my mom in late August with my kids and we went to the fair; they call it "Grammy's Fair." My pristine memories of childhood rides became richer and thicker watching my kids enjoy the same rides I did.

At Dorney Park, we compared the rides with those at Grammy's Fair, some were the same, some a bit different. Dorney Park, however, boasts at least 5 roller coasters. I don't remember the roller coasters at my fair because I never went on them; the Tilt-a-Whirl makes me a bit sick. Well, Brian sure remembers roller coasters from his youth because he wanted to go on all of them. And, my daughter went with him. I was shocked. When my daughter was young, she avoided all haunted houses by at least 10 feet, and she couldn't even watch MGM movies because she was afraid of the lion's roar at the beginning of the film. Yet, here she was, going on huge roller coasters that shot you up into the air and hung you upside down. And she loved it!

We had a great day. Even the couple of rain showers did not mar our day. Later, I called my mom and told her about the park and how we compared it to Grammy's Fair. She loved hearing about the kids and loved that they remembered "her fair." We'll be going up to see her in Vermont soon. Unfortunately, we won't be there for the fair as I'll have to start rehearsals in mid-August. But we made some great memories yesterday and they'll be added to the catalogue filed under fair, rides, roller coasters and of course Grammy.