You know that feeling when you’ve been away for so long that you literally miss sleeping in your own bed? That’s exactly how my husband and I felt after the extended visit with his parents.
Like I said in my previous post, this random family reunion started with a funeral. (My husband’s step-grandfather passed away right before Passover, and we had to drive up to Detroit, Michigan at the last minute for his funeral.)
I mentioned briefly in my last post how my husband and I were in quite the rush to get to the funeral, because a) We left Cleveland a little later than we had initial anticipated, b) We had to stop to drop the doggies off at my husband’s mom’s house, and c) It was snowing!
We rushed into his mom’s house, dropped off the dogs, changed, and raced back into the car. That’s when we realized we had 10 minutes to get to a funeral home that was 18 minutes away.
My husband looked at me and said, “Honey, I’m gonna drive like I live in Detroit again.”
“What the hell does that mean?!” I fired back.
“It means, hold on, buckle up and whatever you do, don’t scream!” He said backing out of the driveway.
I don’t remember a whole bunch about that 8-minute drive to the funeral home (mostly because my eyes were closed, and I was clenching the armrest in fright).
Although, I do remember my husband saying this at some point: “See, honey? It’s not so bad. It’s just like that video game, Burnout, I play a lot at home! Relax, I used to drive like this all the time.”
And I remember thinking after he said that: <em>Great my husband just paralleled this to a video game that’s known for having the coolest and most authentic car crashes, which by the way, he does quite frequently total his cars when he plays the game.</em>
I swear to you that it was by the grace of G-d that we were able to reach that funeral home in one piece!
The rest of the trip was annoyingly uneventful. We occupied our time by reading, surfing the net, watching a lot of Showtime, (BTW, the United States of Tara is the most addictingly awesome show ever!), and of course celebrating Passover with loved ones.
Believe me, after changing sleeping arrangements nightly, packing and unpacking our suitcases a couple of times and sneaking the dogs in and out of a condo where they technically weren’t allowed, we were ready to go home as soon as Shabbat ended on Saturday night.
Within a half hour of it ending, my husband and I had the car packed, and we had said our goodbyes. I, for one, was looking forward to pulling into our driveway right around midnight, and carelessly falling into my comfy bed momentarily thereafter …45 minutes into our trip, I realized that my evening was not going to end how I had planned.
We were cruising on the highway, and I heard a loud “Vrrroooooom!” over the car radio. I looked to my left as a sports car entered the freeway. When the car passed us, and I continued to hear the noise, I thought for a second.That’s not my car, is it? I quickly reached over and turned off the radio. Turns out that the “Vrrroooooom” sound wasn’t coming from the junker car on my right, and it wasn’t coming from the semi-truck to my left. Nope. I was right…It was my car.
As my husband pulled off at the next exit, all I could think was. Yeah…I’m not gonna be getting home any time soon…