This was quite a day for me. A solo road trip north and beyond. Of course a stop at Fairfax is always on the top of the list for a “Kevin” fix. Traveling on to Glencoe for my cousin’s daughter’s funeral was huge and sad. A loss of someone so young . . . sad.
Aunt Janet asked me back to her home in Brownton after the funeral luncheon. Sometimes when one has lost a close person as Aunt Janet has in the death of Shelly, they need to talk. I willingly drank a lot of coffee and let Janet talk until she was spent. When I left she was changed into her robe and planning on putting her feet up in her recliner. The best medicine for rejuvenation.
Down Highway 212, Michael was my next stop. Michael will be in Rochester this next week for his next round of radiation and chemo. I needed to see him, hug him and spend a few minutes with him and JoAnn. It saddens me to see him fragile . . . the twinkle in his eyes remains and I hang onto that as a sure positive.
Coming home to Dennis was just what I needed. His ole cowboy logic . . . you can’t beat it. He was enjoying Campbell’s Chicken Noodle Soup and toast. If I had not wanted out of my shoes so badly, I would have clicked my heels together and chanted “There’s no place like home, there’s no place like home.” Tomorrow is Sunday and no firm fast plans for Stauffer Avenue. I love that.