Starting my trip with a visit

Spanish is a great language. For example, instead of having to say, "I dropped the vase and broke it into a thousand pieces," you would say, "The vase dropped and broke into a thousand pieces." No blame. Not really any responsibility - it just happened. Another more relevant example. Instead of having to say, "I started my trip by turning onto the expressway going in the wrong direction," I can say, "The trip started with a turn onto the expressway going in the wrong direction"  It just happened. Not my fault.  John Steinbeck in his travel book Travels with Charley also started his trip with a wrong turn on his home turf, and when I spoke with a good friend of mine from New York about his trip , he mentioned that he had also started a long trip by getting lost on his way to the George Washington Bridge, so I'm in good company.

Getting to my cousin's house near Harrisburg also proved somewhat problematic since there was a poorly marked detour close to his house. Fortunately the little lady who lives in my GPS knew an easy alternate route (How does she do that?), so this wasn't the problem it might have been. "Your GPS - don't leave home without it." The visit with my cousins was very pleasant. Another of my cousins was there and we talked about everything from family history to financial derivatives, politics and our personal lives. One of the conversational highlights - my cousin's comment that his wife "refused to marry me until I got my divorce (from my previous wife.)"  Good talk followed by a very good dinner. The most confusing part had to do with my family tree. Seems like my aunt by marriage to my uncle was also my mother's aunt by virtue of being a daughter of my mother's grandfather - or something like that. In truth, I've never been very interested in my family tree. I'm perfectly satisfied just to think I might be a descendant of King David and let it go at that.

The sad part of the trip was that I didn't get to see my cousin Frances, who is just a year or so older than I. The last time I'd spoken to her a few months ago she had had a minor heart attack and had moved into an assisted living residence. When I called her a week or so ago, she told me that she had been diagnosed with leukemia and that the chemotherapy wasn't going very well. When I called this morning to see if she was well enough for me to visit her, she said that she wasn't, and when I mentioned that perhaps I would be able to see her on my way back from my trip, she said matter-of-factly that she was planning to go into hospice care soon and wasn't expecting to still be around then.
I remember Frances when she first came to stay with my family at the age of 18 or so. She was slim and beautiful, graceful and vivacious. She hasn't been slim and graceful for several years now, but she is still vivacious and I will miss her. It was also a reminder for me how precarious life is. I'm glad I'm doing this trip while I still can.