Filed under: Virginia | Tags: green, motel, road mission, self portrait, wytheville
A few weeks ago Jeff and I hit the road on our annual pilgrimage to Florida to visit Jeff’s parents, covering six states in nine days. We thought at some point over the years that it would be awesome to drive there instead of flying – we’d make stops at oddball museums, look at crazy junk that nobody wants, eat at ma and pop diners along the way. But the glamour of tripping faded as we zipped from Pennsylvania all the way down to the Sunshine State on I-95. It was hot (upper 90s) and it felt like most of the places we visited before closed, an unfortunate sign of the times. So we focused on the missions at hand: visiting our family and for the grand finale – getting to Gettysburg to scatter my mother’s ashes. I took a lot of motel photos (I’m a little obsessed, bear with me). Found a shrine dedicated to Our Lady of Lourdes tucked in the Maryland mountains. And through it all was my mother, wrapped carefully in a vintage microphone case and nestled among my books like a little secret.
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Your writing is wonderful, I love the last line about your mother, “nestled among my books like a little secret.” Your posts are making me want to go on a road trip.
Comment by farmhouse stories June 14, 2011 @ 8:07 PMThat’s such a nice compliment, thanks, Cait!
Comment by Lisa June 19, 2011 @ 8:43 AM