Eighty six miles. Up the road a piece. An hour and a half away. Ninety minute run up the road. No matter how you say it, it was the longest ride I’ve been on. It was the ride we took from Rehoboth Beach to Wilmington where my mom and dad live to see them for the first time in nearly two years.
We planned on going for about five days so I had to think of everything we could possibly need to take with us and get it packed. It’s so much easier when you just carry your whole house behind you.
We got on the road around 10:30 and headed north. We watched the scenery as we went and commented on all the new buildings that were there that weren’t the last time we were home. I kept an eye on the speedometer silently willing Bob to speed. If there was ever a time to go a few over the speed limit it was NOW! I have never known this ride to take so long.
Of course we had stops to make! Gas, beer, sodas, ice. You would think they didn’t sell any of these things north of the canal!
Finally, we were getting into the old neighborhood where everything was totally familiar and each little change stood out like a sore thumb. “Oh look, the Exxon station closed.”
After what seemed like an eternity we entered the town where my parents have lived for the past 57 years. The town where I grew up. We turned onto the street where their house is, the one I grew up in and I could hardly contain myself. Bob slowed down because another large truck was coming from the opposite direction and it took everything I had not to put my foot on his and push that gas pedal to the metal to get us past the last five houses before we were “home” again. I don’t think the truck came to a complete stop and I had my hand on the door handle. Of course we had to let the truck cool down just a bit before shutting it off so I waited ever so impatiently because I thought it best to at least try to wait for him. You can bet as soon as he turned that key I was outta there like a shot!
Mom and Dad were sitting in the enclosed front porch of the house and when I walked through that door I had the biggest lump in my throat. Mom got up and we wrapped our arms around each other and just stood there. Even at fifty six years of age there is no feeling like being held by your mother. Especially if you haven’t seen her for nearly two years. Dad’s hug was next and I felt so at home in his embrace.
We spent the rest of the afternoon, Dad and Bob on the porch, me and Mom at the kitchen table, catching up and just enjoying each other’s company.
Mom and Dad treated us to dinner at Michael’s, my favorite restaurant. Crab Imperial. Hmmm, hmmm, GOOD! I didn’t even need a menu I knew what I was having when I got in the car. This restaurant also has a great salad bar which we enjoyed.
Back at the house we continued talking until the wee hours of the morning.
Dorothy was right….THERE’S NO PLACE LIKE HOME.