During the most hectic summer ever, following an extraordinarily busy week, we were packed and ready to set off for our long awaited trip to the Clara Barton Center for family camp.
Have you heard anyone say they didn’t absolutely love their experience at diabetes camp? I haven’t. The reviews I’ve heard are consistently rave.
We tied up some final details that morning, including fueling up the truck.
Dave called me from the gas station. The truck was not drivable. He turned the wheel to pull out of the station and “POP”, the power steering was done for.
It was a Sunday. Getting the truck fixed pronto was not an option.
We have two vehicles. Mine is “the truck”. Dave’s is a teeny, sporty sedan.
Truck towed, David back home and we’re looking at all the things we need to take and the car. Big pile of stuff including pillows, sleeping bags and necessities for 5 people. Little car. We can barely get the three kids to fit in the back seat. There was no way our big pile of stuff was going to fit in the trunk that fits little other than Dave’s baseball bag. I walked inside the house leaving Dave there contemplating out of sheer desperation.
Do we miss the first night and see if we can get the truck fixed in the morning?
Do we wait and rent a vehicle first thing in the morning?
Do we drive to an airport and rent a vehicle today?
My dad knows automobiles. When this happened I called him to get a sense of whether there was any hope that we could diagnose the problem with the truck and fix it ourselves. He validated the chances were slim to none. Immediately he offered to bring his pickup truck over for us to use. To both David and I, that seemed like too big an offer to accept and we were determined to figure this out ourselves.
When I saw the big pile and the little car, I knew the only way we were going to get to the Clara Barton Center for opening ceremonies, which I felt were too important to miss, was to take my parents up on their offer. I looked at David and said, “If Colin calls you in 15 years in the same situation that we’re in, what would you do?”
Enough said. We accepted the offer and my parents were on their way. Not only offering their truck to us, but driving over in two vehicles which means my mom was driving, and driving on the highway, and lets just say driving is not her favorite thing.
Thanks Mom and Dad. And really big thanks, Mom.
Within no time we were packed and ready to go. To the kids, taking the trip in Grandpa’s truck was a nifty adventure. I was just happy to be back on track. Dave was cursing German car makers.
That is how our trip began. We arrived safely and happily at the Clara Barton Center within a couple of hours.
Not to give away any ending or anything, but we got through all the hard stuff before we even left. The rest of the trip went off without a hitch.
To be continued…