Be Strong in the Lord

I got up early yesterday morning and took a long walk through the neighborhoods just to the east of Dave's parents' mobile home. It was about 55º F (or 13º C) -- cool enough that I needed a sweater, which isn't all that unusual for Florida in February. I had a great time checking out all the Florida-themed paint jobs and garden ornaments.

Then I took some boxed bed frames up to the UPS store to return them to Amazon for Dave's sister. They were purchased for their parents's new place, but for whatever reason they didn't work out. Those suckers were heavy and I was glad to get them shipped back and to be able to do something small for Dawn, who has been working so hard to get their mom and dad settled.

I had an appointment to meet my brother in Tampa at 12:30 p.m., so I hit the road about 11 a.m., which I thought would give me plenty of time. But THE TRAFFIC! Holy cow! I navigated my way out to I-75 and the northbound cars were backed up for miles. I don't know if there was an accident or what, but rather get in the middle of that congestion I drove past the Interstate and found a northbound detour, through the sprawling new housing developments that have paved almost every inch of the swamps and pastures that not so long ago patchworked that area. By the time I was on the main road again it was practically noon.

I got to Tampa half an hour late and joined my brother, J.M., for a meatball sub at Alfonso's, a pizzeria we frequented as kids -- now run by the former owners' son. Still a fantastic meatball sub! We ate as televisions overhead showed highlights of World Wrestling Federation matches.

J.M. and I had some important family business to attend to -- scattering my mom's ashes. It took a while to work out a plan, get permission and wait until I was back in the country. Not to be all mysterious, but I'll keep the details to ourselves.

We also visited the house where we both grew up. No one was home, but I laid a hand on two of the big trees on the property -- a magnolia my mother planted and a pine that was there before the house was built in 1966. I choked up, thinking about my mom and how these two trees had seen us grow up and get older. And now a whole new family is growing up beneath their branches. Trees seem so eternal.

That's the lake where we used to swim. If there is a God, he/she was present at the moment I took that picture.

We drove around the neighborhood for old times' sake and then hit the road separately for Jacksonville, where my brother lives.

It took four hours to get up here, so I was driving through little towns like Waldo, Starke and Middleburg at night. I haven't driven on an open road after dark in ages, and I worried I'd come across a deer or other wildlife, but I didn't. In fact I saw no animals all day, living or dead, except humans, the occasional bird and two house cats frolicking on a side street when I stopped in Starke to take the photo above. The absence of roadkill was striking. I wondered if wild animals are learning to stay away from roads, or perhaps there are simply a lot fewer of them.

Anyway, I'm here now!