Yearning For Yesteryear

                                                                           

     

                                                                               

Recently I watched an earlier episode of Mad Men which took place at a Howard Johnson Motor Lodge in the sixties. This brought back memories of childhood vacations. Our dad was vice president and comptroller for a large corporation that had a plant in Newark, Delaware. We spent many summers driving from Chicago to Newark at the Howard Johnson's where we enjoyed leisurely days at the pool, while our dad went to work.

Afterward, he would go swimming with us, have races, and take me for rides on his back. Our mom enjoyed sunbathing, and would occasionally walk in the water up to her knees.  We were warned not to get her hair wet under any circumstances. Children who accidentally splashed her were never seen again.

Our dad also delighted in taking us out for hot fudge sundaes, or the flavor of the month special at HoJo's.  Hot apple pie ala mode with chocolate ice cream was also a favorite he shared with my brother. We never made a visit without going to a barbecue hosted by his associate's family who became dear friends. 

The only downside were the long drives to and fro. I suffered from motion sickness, and never failed to have my dad pull over several times throughout the trip. In the meantime, my brother would be quietly turning blue with his legs crossed, and tears streaming down his face. All because he didn't want to ask our dad to make anymore unscheduled stops.

Our last vacation to Delaware was when I was fourteen years old. As an added bonus we drove on to a resort in the Catskill Mountains. It was a cleaner version of the one in Dirty Dancing. By day my brother and dad played a lot of tennis, in addition to swimming and playing volleyball with us. By night we went to see shows, or went dancing in a lounge with a live band. As always the vacation went by all too quickly.

Although our dad didn't feel well, he insisted on driving straight home like he always did. Mom suggested spending the night in a motel, or at the very least she would drive, but he wouldn't hear of it. Dad drove through the night, dropped me off at home, and headed to the hospital with my mom and brother. 

It wasn't until the next day that I found out Dad had a heart attack, along with latent malaria which he must have contracted in the Navy. Mom assured us he would be fine, so I didn't worry. My brother was smart enough to know better. This was Dad's second out of three heart attacks, and he was only forty six years old.  

One of our last family trips was when I was a high school sophomore, and my brother was a college freshman. My brother fixed me up with his friend who needed a date for a Naval ROTC formal. I could have taken the bus to Wisconsin, but Dad offered to have us stay at a hotel, and make a fun weekend out of it.

My dad probably wasn't feeling well at the time, but he never complained. He was so proud of my brother and delighted in visiting the beautiful campus, because he never went away to school. He also loved when my brother joined a frat, as he was president of his fraternity.

I had a great time at the Naval ROTC Ball, which my dad took pleasure in having been a Naval officer. More importantly, I enjoyed the family time that we shared. Sadly, I didn't realize how precious it was. Although he didn't say it often, these special family outings were our dad's way of showing how much he loved us. 

*A repost from the 2012 A to Z Challenge.

Winter Break In Aruba

 

As we were racing to the airport to catch our 5:30 am flight, our younger son asked us to pull over on the tollway. Half asleep, he re-entered the car, and we crossed our fingers that this was an isolated incident. After the second wave of sickness, we anxiously awaited the third strike.

 

The flight attendant on the no-frills airline was concerned when he saw our boy's green complexion, so he quickly gave him an ice pack for the back of his neck, and a can of ginger ale. When he fell asleep, we quietly thanked the flight attendant who asked, "Nervous flyer?" We told him how he came straight to the airport after celebrating his friend's twenty-first birthday, and he replied, "Well, now I don't feel sorry for him."

 

We spent our days in Aruba by the pool or white sand beaches. While my husband and the boys were off on a snorkeling excursion, I walked along the beach admiring the beautiful scenery, shops, and hotels.

 

Our family enjoyed playing catch at the beach or volleyball in the pool. Once when our younger son was playing on my volleyball team he politely advised, "If the ball comes near you, just run away from it."

 

It cooled off at night which made walking to the restaurants along the strip quite pleasant. After dinner, we would go to different casinos where our older son taught us how to play black jack. He was very patient showing us different strategies, though they laughed at my not so swift hand signals. Our teacher was always a good sport, and was equally happy when any of us were ahead. At one point when I was out of chips, both boys shared their winnings with me, so I could get back in the game. That brought me a little bit of luck, and I quickly returned the favor. Fortunately, like The Gambler song, they knew "when to hold 'em, and when to fold 'em," so no one got too carried away. 

 

As always, our vacation went by all too quickly. For the most part we got along well except for the time when my husband wanted to rebel by wearing his dress shirt untucked. "But it's more comfortable that way, and the kids don't tuck in their shirts." I tried to explain to him that the shirt was too long, and didn't hit him in the right place thus creating an unflattering vertically challenged look. Though I won that battle, he smiled the next night when he wore his sport shirt out.

 

It poured on our last day as we headed to the airport. The hotel recommended that we arrive three hours before our flight to allow extra time to go through customs. We had to go through customs twice, and the airport was a madhouse. At one point, our younger son had to run to the other side of the airport to buy some food that we ate while standing in line, as we waited over five hours.

 

Once we boarded the return no-frills flight, the flight attendant apologized for all of the delays, and offered to give us drinks and snacks as long as we paid for them. He even joked that if any of us needed oxygen in case of an emergency, he would gladly give it to us as long as our credit card was accepted. 

 

Though our plane left over two hours late, we still made our connecting flight home. This was quite a relief to all of my boys who were worried about catching the Bears game later that day. Fortunately, they won making our fourteen hour day of travel more bearable.

  

 

 

Yearning For Yesteryear

A recent episode of Mad Men took place at a Howard Johnson Motor Lodge. This brought back memories of childhood vacations. Our dad was vice president and comptroller for a large corporation that had a plant in Newark, Delaware. We spent many summers driving from Chicago to Newark at the Howard Johnson's where we enjoyed leisurely days at the pool, while our dad went to work.

 Afterward, he would go swimming with us, have races, and take me for rides on his back. Our mom would be sunbathing, and occasionally walk in the water up to her knees.  We were warned not to get her hair wet under any circumstances. Children who accidentally splashed her were never seen again.

Our dad also delighted in going out for dessert with us for hot fudge sundaes, or the flavor of the month special at HoJo's.  Hot apple pie ala mode with chocolate ice cream was also a favorite he shared with my brother. We never made a visit without going to a barbecue hosted by his associate's family who became dear friends.

The only downside were the long drives to and fro. I suffered from motion sickness, and never failed to have my dad pull over several times throughout the trip. In the meantime, my brother would be quietly turning blue with his legs crossed, and tears streaming down his face. All because he didn't want to ask our dad to make anymore unscheduled stops.

Our last vacation to Delaware was when I was fourteen years old. As an added bonus we drove on to a resort in the Catskill Mountains. It was a cleaner version of the one in Dirty Dancing. By day my brother and dad played a lot of tennis, in addition to swimming and playing volleyball with us. By night we went to see shows, or went dancing in a lounge with a live band. As always the vacation went by all too quickly.

Although our dad didn't feel well, he insisted on driving straight home like he always did. Mom suggested spending the night in a motel, or at the very least she would drive, but he wouldn't hear of it. Dad drove through the night, dropped me off at home, and headed to the hospital with my mom and brother.

It wasn't until the next day that I found out Dad had a heart attack, along with latent malaria which he must have contracted in the Navy. Mom assured us he would be fine, so I didn't worry. My brother was smart enough to know better. This was Dad's second out of three heart attacks, and he was only 46 years old. 

One of our last family trips was when I was a high school sophomore, and my brother was a college freshman. My brother fixed me up with his friend who needed a date for an NROTC formal. I could've taken the bus to Wisconsin, but Dad offered to have us stay at a hotel, and make a fun weekend out of it.

My dad probably wasn't feeling well at the time, but he never complained. He was so proud of my brother and delighted in visiting the beautiful campus, because he never went away to school. He also loved when my brother joined a frat, as he was president of his fraternity.

 I had a great time at the Naval ROTC Ball, which my dad took pleasure in having been a Naval officer. More importantly, I enjoyed the family time that we shared. Sadly, I didn't realize how precious it was. Although he didn't say it often, these special family outings were our dad's way of showing how much he loved us.