When I Hit the Road

by Nancy J. Cavanaugh

  I cried while Mom tried to talk.

  And ever since then, I’ve been sitting in the corner of the emergency-room waiting area writing you another letter.

  I won’t keep you in suspense.

  Gram didn’t die.

  And the really good news is that Mom said the doctor told her Gram’s going to be okay, but I’m not so sure about me, especially because of what Mom told me next.

  The doctor told Mom that Gram hadn’t been taking her medication.

  I exploded with a whole new batch of tears.

  “How can that be? Her pill container’s been empty.”

  But Mom had more to say, so she tried to calm me down, so I could listen.

  I guess once Gram regained consciousness at the hospital, she confessed to the doctor that she’d stopped taking her blood pressure and cholesterol medication on purpose. She hadn’t taken it since we’d left Sunny Sandy Shores.

  She hadn’t wanted the medicine’s side effects to interfere with our trip, the worst of which for her was that the pills made her have to go to the bathroom much more often than usual. Gram told the doctor she just didn’t want to be bothered with that while we traveled.

  Can you even believe that?!

  No wonder Mom gets so mad at Gram sometimes.

  But wait until you hear this.

  At the beginning of our road trip, Gram somehow had a hunch that I was checking her pill container, so she threw away each day’s pills so that I’d think she’d taken them.

  Maybe Mom had been right to want Gram in that condo eight and a half minutes from our house. Because if Gram was going to act like this, Mom really did need to keep a closer eye on her.

  As I continued to cry, Mom not only consoled me, but she also apologized for having asked me to keep track of Gram like that in the first place.

  “I should’ve never put you in that position,” Mom said.

  She also said she should have never discouraged Gram from moving to Sunny Sandy Shores if that was really what Gram wanted. Mom agreed that Gram was right about not needing her permission to do the things she wanted to do.

  “Ever since we lost Grandpa, I’ve just felt like Gram needed someone to take care of her, but I should’ve realized that’s her job, not mine,” Mom said.

  “But hasn’t she just proven she needs us to tell her what to do, and she also needs us to make sure she does it?”

  “She’s got to make her own choices and then be willing to accept whatever consequences come.”

  So, you might be thinking that, since Gram stopped taking her pills on purpose and intentionally tricked me into thinking she was taking them AND since Mom didn’t even think it had been fair of her to ask me to keep track of Gram’s medication in the first place, you probably think that I’m off the hook and that this proves none of this really was my fault after all.

  But the doctor also told Mom that missing a few days of medication wouldn’t have been such a big deal or made such a big difference if Gram hadn’t been under so much stress. Her fainting had likely been caused by her anxiety, and not her blood pressure.

  So now you’re probably thinking that, since all the stress of this road trip was in no way my fault, that this was just more evidence that I really was off the hook.

  But the stress that happened right before Gram collapsed was because of us singing in the Kooky Karaoke Contest. And that was my fault.

  Right before we went onstage, Gram told me she wasn’t just nervous.

  She told me she wasn’t feeling well.

  She told me she didn’t want to sing.

  But I made her do it anyway.

  I literally pulled her out of the chair and dragged her up the stage steps.

  When I told Mom all that through lots more tears, she told me something else Gram said to the doctor just after he scolded her for not taking her health more seriously.

  And what Gram said might just be the most unbelievable thing I’ve written so far, which is saying a lot.

  “Listen, Dr. Whoever You Are, I realize you’ve gone to medical school, so you’re a lot smarter than I am, but I’ve just had one of the best weeks of my life and gotten to do something I always dreamed of doing. And I couldn’t have done any of that if I’d spent the week searching for public restrooms every five minutes and worrying about all the other side effects that come with taking those darned pills.

  “Did I put my health at risk? Maybe. But so be it. It was well beyond worth it, no matter what happens to me.”

  And then Mom said something that made me feel better than I’ve felt in a really, long time. Maybe even better than I’ve ever felt.

  “So, Sam, if you’re the one who pulled Gram up onstage, you should be proud.”

  Love,

  Me

  P.S. So, even though I was feeling pretty awesome after hearing some of the things Mom told me, that awesome feeling had a tiny pinhole in it. And through that tiny pinhole, there was a slow leak causing some of that awesome feeling to deflate.

  There’s still one thing that’s really nagging at my conscience.

  I wish I knew for sure what my real reason for pulling Gram up onstage had been.

  Was it for her dream?

  Or for mine?

  Did I do it so that I’d finally get to know what it felt like to have people clap for me?

  I wish I knew the answer to that.

  Dear Me,

  It’s the middle of the night, and we’re back at the Borlandsville Fairground Hotel. The doctors released Gram after she promised to take her medication. No. Matter. What!

  According to Mom, according to Gram, even according to the doctor in the emergency room, it wasn’t my responsibility to make sure Gram took her pills, but even so, until we get back to Sunny Sandy Shores, I plan to watch Gram put those two little pills on her tongue, drink a full glass of water, and swallow them.

  Gram and Mimi are both asleep in bed. And of course, snoring away.

  Brandon’s in the adjoining room, most likely sleeping, and most definitely looking adorable.

  I’m in the bathroom writing to you.

  And thinking.

  Thinking about what Gram said about dreams being worth it.

  Thinking about what Brandon said about the pressure he feels to play baseball.

  And thinking about what Mom said about missing out on some of her own memories while helping other people cherish and preserve theirs.

  And all this thinking has given me a few great ideas.

  I think there’s a way this Dear Me Journal, which has meant so much to me on this trip, and hopefully means a lot to you now, could also be a way to mean something for other people too.

  I started the summer not wanting Mom to bring my Dear Me Journal into a meeting with her executives, and that hasn’t changed. I still would never want her to do that. But my opinion of how meaningful Dear Me letters can be has changed drastically.

  When this summer started, I wondered how I would survive my visit to Florida.

  And once I got to Sunny Sandy Shores, I wondered how I would survive the road trip with Gram, Mimi, and Brandon.

  And once we’d left on the trip, I wondered how in the world I’d survive the pitfalls that challenged us around every curve and corner.

  Turns out the answer to my survival was these letters to you.

  I don’t think I could’ve survived this trip without them.

  I don’t think I could’ve survived the trip without you.

  Mom said she was pretty sure she was finished with Make It, Take It, but that doesn’t mean she has to be finished with her career in preserving memories. Now that I believed in the Dear Me Journal as much as she did, maybe even more, maybe Mom and I could team up. With me as a spokesperson for the product, Mom and I could start our own little business and sell Dear
Me Journals online. It wouldn’t be as stressful as working for Make It, Take It, but Mom would still get to keep pursuing her creative dreams, and the two of us could make some memories of our own.

  Besides that, I have an idea of my own that we could add to the Dear Me Journal, so that we wouldn’t just have one product to sell online; we’d have two.

  Letters to Loved Ones

  Record it today, so your loved ones can cherish it tomorrow.

  Letters to Loved Ones are a revolutionary way to record vacation memories.

  Don’t simply record the stops and scenery along the way.

  Don’t just post photos online of everything you do, for everyone to see.

  Make it more memorable for the ones you love.

  Make it a personal memento better than any souvenir.

  A keepsake that lasts forever.

  Write Letters to Loved Ones to those you travel with.

  Letters to Loved Ones

  A way to do something unforgettable for the loved ones who joined you in creating once-in-a-lifetime memories, you’ll never want to forget.

  Doing something like this with Mom meant that I’d be way too busy to waste my time in seventh grade trying out for more stuff that probably wouldn’t end up being my thing and might not even be all that fun anyway.

  It was true that standing on that fairground stage soaking up all that praise felt great, but in all honesty, hearing that Gram had had such a good time on the road trip, knowing that I had played some part in making that happen, and having Mom tell me I should feel proud felt even better.

  I hope you don’t mind, but on the next several pages of my Dear Me Journal, I’ll be writing a few letters and tearing them out so that I can give them to my traveling companions.

  But before I give them to their recipients, when Mom gets to Florida, I’ll show them to her so that she can get excited about Letters to Loved Ones too. That way, when the two of us get back home, we can take the preserving memories world by storm; and while we do, we’ll create some of our own unforgettable memories.

  Love,

  Me

  Dear Mimi,

  When I think back to the day I met you, I have to admit, I never would’ve imagined that just a week later, I’d think of you as my friend. But I do. And I’m lucky. Or as I know you would say, I’m “blessed.”

  When you called me precious, when I found out about your boxes of Bibles, when I realized we would be going on a road trip together, I won’t lie and say that I was thrilled. Actually, I was filled with overwhelming dread. But now that our trip is almost over, I hope I never forget the memories that, little by little, replaced my apprehension as we overcame all the “trials” (as you call them) that we had to navigate with sweat and mud, tears, and laughter. Hopefully this letter will help you cherish the moments of this trip long after we return to Sunny Sandy Shores, and I hope the trip will always be something you count as a real blessing. I know I always will.

  Love,

  Sam

  P.S. So many things will always make me think of you—things like turtles, hymns like “Marching to Zion,” and definitely plastic tablecloths and vanilla-scented hand sanitizer.

  Dear Brandon,

  You already know when I heard you were going on this trip that I wasn’t all that happy about it, and you also already know all the pretty jerky things I thought about you before I bothered to get to know you.

  But this letter isn’t about any of that.

  It’s about how lucky I am that you came along on this trip.

  And how thankful I am that we became friends.

  And most of all, it’s about how I hope you’ll remember all the fun and funny and horrible and horrendous things that happened to the four of us along the way. Those are the things that make the memories from this trip something I want to remember and cherish forever.

  (I can’t believe I just wrote the word “cherish” in a letter to you. I hope you don’t think that’s corny.)

  So, when we both get old, and don’t remember things the way we wish we did, here’s a list of things that might help you remember this trip in all its triumph and tragedy:

  • Television-theme-song car sing-alongs

  • Turtles

  • Alligators

  • Swamp mud

  • Glory Bound Baptist (and the cat burglar)

  • Church donation bin outfits

  • Team Road Trip shirts

  • Camp Wonderful

  • Bunk beds (and pushing Gram’s butt up the ladder of one)

  • Friendly Fill-Up gas station (and the Restroom of Horror)

  • 3XB (minus the barbecue)

  • Kooky Karaoke Contest (“Last Train to Clarksville”)

  • A friend named Sam

  Team Road Trip rocks forever,

  Sam

  P.S. I’m glad you told me the truth about your wrist and about baseball. I hope when you get home, you’ll tell that truth to the people who really need to know. I have a feeling, even if they aren’t happy about it right away, they will be eventually. Sometimes people’s minds have a way of drastically changing even when we think there’s no chance they will.

  Dear Gram,

  I didn’t believe Mom when she told me this trip to visit you would be the “trip of a lifetime.” I’m not sure I’ve ever been so wrong about something.

  There’s no way to put into words what this trip means to me right now and what I think it will mean to me for the rest of my life.

  I hadn’t really wanted to come to Florida this summer. Not because I didn’t want to see you, but because I wasn’t all that excited about spending time at what I thought was going to be a senior citizens’ center. And when I found out about the road trip with Mimi and Brandon, I wondered how I’d survive.

  But somewhere along the way, I’m not even sure when, the ups and downs of the trip started to change me. The time I was getting to spend with you and the arduous obstacles the four of us kept having to face as we chased your karaoke dream gave me experiences that I know I never want to forget.

  And when I heard you agree with Mimi in the urgent care center waiting room that the two of you were having the time of your lives with Brandon and me, I thought my heart might explode with a feeling I don’t think I’ve ever had before.

  Then Mom told me what you said to the doctor about it all being worth it, even with your two horrible health scares, and my exploding heart melted like a fireworks finale against a nighttime summer sky. And I knew right then, that even if I’m lucky enough to live to be as old as you, it will be hard for me to have a week as memorable and meaningful as this one.

  So, thank you, Gram, for giving me a week’s worth of memories to cherish for a lifetime.

  Love,

  Sam

  Dear Mom,

  You weren’t on the weeklong karaoke Bible-delivery widow’s bucket list road trip, but you’re the reason I was.

  I’m not only thankful to have had a week chock-full of cherish-worthy memories, but I’m thankful that your Dear Me Journal was there to see me through the toughest times of this trip.

  Besides that, now that my Dear Me letters are written, I’ll get to enjoy this whole trip again and again and again, whenever I want. And I’ll get to do that all because of you!

  You said that you regret having missed making some of your own memories in exchange for creating projects for other people to preserve theirs. But I’m thankful you’re the kind of person who thinks so much of making memories, because now I’m that kind of person too.

  I’m glad you figured out you want to spend more time making some of your own memories with me, because I’m looking forward to having fun making them with you.

  Love,

  Sam

  Dear Me,

  The next da
y at the fair, Gram and Mimi sat in the shade in the picnic area with plenty of food spread out on Mimi’s tablecloth. They were going to enjoy more of their fairground favorites while Brandon and I hit the rides.

  As soon as Brandon and I filled ourselves with all the carnival thrills we could handle, the four of us planned to head to the airport, pick up Mom, and then work our way back to Sunny Sandy Shores.

  Lying next to the funnel cakes, cotton candy, and caramel apples on the picnic table were two Borlandsville Fun in the Sun County Fair prize ribbons.

  One for an honorable mention in the Kooky Karaoke Contest.

  And one for third place in the Baking Competition.

  My cookies had actually earned a ribbon, and not just an obligatory participation one!

  The prizes had been awarded earlier that morning in the competition tent, and though Gram clapped loud when they announced our karaoke honorable mention, she clapped exponentially louder when they announced my third-place baking prize. Ever since then, she hasn’t stopped telling me how proud of me she is.

  All of this feels pretty great, but there’s something that’s making me feel AMAZING and that’s the letters I’ve written to Gram, Mimi, Brandon, and Mom. I can’t wait to give them to them when we get back to Sunny Sandy Shores.

  It will be the perfect way to end this road trip!

  Before Brandon and I headed off toward the rides, Gram said she wished she could be young again.

  “I’d give anything to take a turn on the Zipper. I used to love that one!”

  “Don’t even think about, Madge!” Mimi said.

  Then Mimi told us she’d keep an eye on Gram while we were gone, and Gram sort of huffed a little.

  Ever since Gram had been released from the emergency room, all three of us had been hovering over her, probably a little too closely. I think it was starting to make her a little nuts.

  Mimi told us that she and Gram had a couple of phone calls to make anyway, so between the food they planned to feast on and the people they needed to get in touch with, they had plenty to do.

  “Madge needs to call Gert back,” Mimi said.