gratitude-a-thon day 342: family & eating

Ally, moi, Paul & Chris. Chatting it up and not photographed are Greg and Peter.

Yesterday we spent like 100 hours in the car trying to get to Connecticut. First Al had a doctor’s appointment, so we packed and went to that, but I had to stay in the car with the dog, or he would freeze his paws off. Then Peter had a conference call presentation to Germany for an hour, while I drove. I don’t like to drive on the highway unless I can sing really loudly with my really bad voice. But you can’t do that if there is a work call to Germany going on. But I made some good time and things were moving along. Then we went to our favorite diner in the world, which is a family tradition for maybe 30 years, Rein’s Deli. There’s always a line and you do not want to miss the pickles (shout out to Lee!), which are maybe Ally’s favorite food on the planet, and beyond, or the rye bread, which is maybe one of my favorite foods in the beyond the beyond, or the cheesecake, which we all LOVE. When we got back into the car, it was raining, well actually pouring. The visibility was like having a thin veil of white sheeting over your eyes. And the sides of the road were flooding, so every once in a while we’d get splashed by another car that would render us totally blind. Then there were the small lakes we’d run into and do a little hydroplane dance. I was starting to get a headache, a little car sickness. THEN, the traffic stopped, just like that. Our trusty GPS had those nasty red diamonds for miles. We stopped, we started, we stopped, we started. I began to get insanely car sick and felt like I might throw up on myself. I opened the windows. The car continued to jerk a few inches at a time. At this point, I thought that I would like to go and dip my head into one of the larger ice puddles for some relief. This went on for over an hour, before we began to move past a three car accident, where one of the cars was crumpled up into a tiny square of metal. The traffic disappeared, and we flew the rest of the way to the hotel. Ah, if only my head felt better. But by then the damage was done and I was into a full on migraine of hell. I laid down and napped, sort of, but I still felt like a drunken dreidal when I got up. But we were only to be in Connecticut for one night because of schedules, and so I was going to go out to dinner with my favorite aunt and my cousins, (my uncle Louie, who is my mom’s remaining brother can no longer come to dinner and this fact is a story unto itself, the pain of, I shall not discuss today) come hell or hellish migraine. We had missed our traditional Thanksgiving this year, which I have been doing since I was a kid, because we were in Barcelona, and this was our only free moment to see them and so I was going to, whether I had to vomit on them, or not.

What I usually do when I have a migraine (after a distinctive period of getting them four times a week and being treated by a specialist, and finally ridding myself of them through diet and acupuncture after three years) is take Compazine, which is a drug for nausea, and I usually always have them with me, but of course, I didn’t, so I did the next best thing and went to CVS for Bonine, which is a similar sort of thing, used for sea sickness.

We met at a great restaurant in Danbury, Della Francesca, where we have been many times and where the food is stunningly delish. I had the bolognese and honestly I almost licked the plate (I think I might have, what with the Bonine and glass of Pinot). We had a bunch of laughs and discussed a million things as our usual A.D.D. selves.

Anyway, headache, traffic, no singing, it was still worth it to see people who mean EVERYTHING, AND I MEAN EVERYTHING to me, and who I do not get to see enough of. Grateful. (And happy to say headache-less.)

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