I set out early this morning for a 10-hour drive to Indianapolis. My sister, bro-in-law, and I are moving Mom from one assisted living facility to another one in Rochester, NY, to be near another of our sisters. It will be the third time in one and half years that we’ve moved her: from an independent cottage to an independent apartment to assisted living to another assisted living. Over her 90 years, she’s moved a million times, but her years in Indiana are the longest she’s lived anywhere, nearly 40. So this move is going to be tough—for all of us.

It was pouring rain when I left home at 6:30. Passing through the mountains in Pennsylvania and West Virginia, I encountered fog so thick at the top of two high points that I got a touch of the vertigo while driving. The sun peeked out after a few hours, and I made a stop a Saris’s Candies near Canonsburg, PA. It’s a place my grandmother knew well, being the chocoholic that she was. Her chocolate tooth was passed down through my mother and then on to all Mom’s children. Nothing brings a smile to the face like a wall full of chocolate—or a chocolate castle with chocolate carousel (only $130,000). Today is National Chocolate-Covered Raisin Day, so the stop was fully justified. I bought a quarter pound, plus a few other goodies to bring to Mom and Hubby. My grandmother is buried with three red roses, one for each daughter, and a box of Saris chocolates.

Stopped by Mom’s apartment for a couple of hours this evening, and ate the rest of her supper that she couldn’t finish. I’ve always been a bit of a scavenger. The last time I saw her was mid-November (thank you, Covid), which is an unusually long time to go without seeing my mammacita.

I love road trips; this one I’ve done a dozen times. I used to do it from the West when I lived in Montana. I never get tired of driving across America, although sorry, western Ohio, there just isn’t a whole lot to hold the interest on Interstate 70. Thank God for audio books.