“Grand” Vacations
Papaw Hillard, Daddy’s dad, never liked leaving home,
but he would drive me to surrounding counties
to watch my cousin Steve play baseball…
Just the two of us, in the cab of his work truck,
stopping on the way to the game for a bottle of pop.
Granny Faye, Daddy’s mom loved a good trip
to anywhere
she rode in the backseat
with my sister and me
We marveled how she could read
a book, on those curvy mountain roads,
from our hometown to Gatlinburg
without getting carsick
Daddy forbade her from smoking in the car
even with the windows down
but she never complained
She bought us souvenirs
paying with bills folded up in her
quilted wallet
and snuck smoke breaks, leaving a lipstick stain
on the cigarette
she lobbied to see the Elvis impersonator
but we ended up at Tommy Barlett’s Water Circus
where she oohed and ahhed along with the rest of us
as Tommy Bartlett and his crew
waterskied barefoot
on the little man-made lake
Grandma Noplis, Mom’s mom, traveled with a bucket of
cleaning supplies
no matter where we vacationed
donning rubber gloves and scouring
the hotel bathroom before we were allowed
to use it
She and Grandpa called their suitcases “grips.”
Grandpa Noplis, Mom’s dad, preferred museums,
walking slowly from exhibit to exhibit
his hands clasped behind his back
reading every single word on every single placard
while we all waited impatiently
raring to move on to the go-cart track
or the Fudge Factory
Even though Daddy and my Uncle vied for the check
Grandpa always insisted on
Paying for everyone’s breakfast
at the pancake house
Looking back
those were grand vacations
three generations
traveling together
making memories
to last a few lifetimes at least