Old Mom on Vacation

(re-run)

When I had my kids at the late ages of 31, 34 and six weeks before turning 39, I didn’t think about the consequences 29 years later, when my baby would be graduating from grad school, with siblings 33 and 36. Here we are, and it is damn near impossible to keep up with them.

Let’s look at yesterday. I am visiting the youngest for her graduation (three days ago). She had an appointment this morning, so her sib and I got up and went to the free art museum next to the hotel. We toured four floors, two wings, and several exhibits over two hours. Then we walked to her apartment and then walked to lunch.

After lunch we walked to where her car was parked and went to the Rawlins Conservatory, with a flower exhibit like no other. After that we drove to her campus bookstore for a sweatshirt and a stuffed Bluejay, then on to Fells Point for a plant store, an antique store (closed), ice cream, and a park.

At 5:00, I begged my daughter to take me back to the hotel. It was the second day of nonstop walking, my eighth day of this trip. I am tired. My feet are tired. My heels hurt from going up so many hills. My back aches from standing around on marble floors.

Don’t get me wrong. I LOVE everything that we’ve done in the past week: seeing my grandbaby, learning that my son-in-law’s mother has learned some English and we can communicate (she lives with them), spending time at my daughter’s home and getting to know her town, watching while she and her husband work as a team at absolutely everything, how they speak nicely to one another and never seem to fight.

That’s pretty wonderful to witness.

I’ve only got one more day to tromp through museums and walk up and down hilly sidewalks with cracks and bumps and cobblestone streets that have their filler sand washed away. Today, is it the African American museum or another art one? Will we have to trek far for breakfast and lunch spots? Will we get to the airport with no incident? With a middle seat, will I be able to sleep on the plane or finish my book?

Soon it will be back to my house filled with super chill dogs (according to the dog sitter), my new bathroom which I haven’t used yet, a pile of dirty travel clothes, and a yard full of thirsty plants. There will be jet lag (we arrive at midnight, East Coast time), and tomorrow will be a day of chores.

I haven’t been away from home this long in at least a decade. It’s been a rollicking good time, but let’s face it. I’m old and tired, my back hurts, and what was I thinking, having kids so late and then wanting to go on vacation with one of them, who always walks ahead of me up the hill for a bagel while I trail behind, willing my legs to take longer strides to match theirs?

I wasn’t.

Now that I’ve arrived here, I’m glad that I didn’t think it through.

P.S. I win the prize for best way to flag down the city bus on Graduation Day. Go running across the cobblestones, in front of the departing bus, waving like crazy, while being 67.