Heading towards New England…

I woke up early as always, it’s an old people thing. I guess as you get older every minute counts, so your body, as you age makes you get up earlier than you ever wanted to as a kid. But I needed to have my truck looked at, she was coughing a little. I knew from the get go, that my truck had a few small things going on but nothing too bad. But the day before she had a hitch in her giddy up, so I wanted to have her looked at, it was still a long way to go. I found a local shop by accident and stopped in first thing. Really friendly guy’s, I told them what I was doing and what my concerns were. I told them what I knew about some of the issue as I had been dealing with it for many miles. I just wanted to be assured by these experts that my diagnosis, along with a computer read out, was what I thought. They agreed, I spoke with them and said “I understand this type of “surgery” isn’t legal in this state. I told them about where I was going and why. They finally agreed , and it is never to be spoke of again. I watched as they performed the procedure, true pro’s. They had me back on the road in no time, and we headed on East bound. Good People.

I got on highway 30, not a bad road. As you drive away from Gettysburg you can’t help but look out at homes that appear to have been there during the battle. Imagine the soldiers marching, men on horses, cannons and more, in your backyard. As I moved on I was enjoying my backroads, but I knew that a lot of todays drive was going to be on interstate highways. This was one of those times when I bent the rules and knew the best route through this part of the country was interstates. My main objective was to stay away from these things while heading East, I95, the New Jersey turnpike, New York, and Philadelphia. So I jumped on I 84 . Nothing to exciting to see as I drove on and settled in Newburgh, NY on the Hudson river as my stop for the day, and checked in to a low budget place for the night.

The next day I was up and ready to head on to Rockland, MA. , where I am going to stay tonight. I want to stay in a hotel so I could not look like I have been sleeping in a tent, when I go see my daughter tomorrow. Not a horrible drive about four hours, driving into Massachusetts I knew this state. I have been here several times, but this was the first time that I was driving. It has a certain green to it, hard to describe but if you have been there before you may have noticed it when thinking back. In the summer of 1971 before I was going into 8th grade, I was sent to stay with my Aunt Barbara and Uncle John in Stoneham, Mass. where they lived. My uncle worked for Northeast Airlines as Director of inventory control for the company. Boy, did I look up to him. He kind of looked like Dean Martin, and just as smooth with a drink in his hand. He had been a Marine in WWII and proud of it. I would do whatever he asked and I never wanted to let him down. My Aunt Barbara was the best, she was my mom’s middle sister and from stories my mother told me over the years, she liked to have fun. I loved being around them.

Well, the reason I spent that summer with my Aunt and Uncle was two fold as I learned later. My 7th grade year in school was let’s say was an Omnishambles, and my parents figured they could straighten me out if I went up there. So my Aunt and Uncle drove me back with them to “Boston” in their 1967 Firebird, British racing green with white interior. What a ride with two of my favorite people, but also leaving my friends behind. My Aunt and Uncle lived in Stoneham, Mass. a small town outside of Boston, 9 Lee street. My summer there turned out to be one of my favorite summers ever. The neighborhood was made up of townhouses, fancy duplex’s. Nice places all pretty much the same three bedroom two bath set ups. And there were kids! From my age and down, it was a blast. But I digress, and will come back to that summer some other time.

I was on my way to Rockland, Mass. it was close to where my daughter lives and we had plans to meet the next day. I haven’t seen her for 20 years and am embarrassed to say it. But it’s a long complicated story, what I can say is her mother and I were never married. I did ask her twice and after saying yes she decided not to. I attempted to contact her mother for over 8 months, only to be hung up on. Then I gave up. I didn’t hear a word for two and a half years, until one night when I came home from work there was a message on my answering machine. It was her mother telling me that I, in fact had a daughter and if I wanted to be part of her life I could and if not fine. I stood there stunned, I wondered if I would ever get that call, even joking with my friend’s that I would probably end up on the “Jenny Jones” show, a early 90’s talk show on the line of a Morey Povich thing, except she would bring out a man or woman and reunite them with a kid they never met. I figured that’s how it would be, but here I am listening to a message from a girl who was carrying my kid 3 years ago. I listened to it a couple times, she had left a number, I called her. She answered and we talked. It was the first time I had really talked to her since the night she told me she was moving back to Connecticut the following day, 3 years ago. I asked her what her name was, it was Catherine, awesome I said, I have an Aunt named Kathryn, her response was “who doesn’t”. I moved on and asked if I could come see her and by the way where are you? I asked. I didn’t know where she was, as the last time I tried calling her she was in Connecticut. ” California” she replied. I was kind of shocked. Within in weeks I was on my way to California.

After my first visit, I went several more times as she was growing up. It wasn’t cheap to visit there, but I did my best. In 2000 I took a traveling Respiratory Therapist job in Las Vegas so I could be closer to her and visited her several times while I was working out there. She and her mother moved several times when she was younger, which made it hard to keep up with where they were. The last time I saw her was when she was 9 years old. While we kept in touch on the phone and packages, things just didn’t work out. In 2020, Catherine was living outside of Boston, I spoke with her and made plans to fly up and take her to a Dead and Company concert in Fenway. I made all the plans and the shut down happened. When things opened up again, I tried to connect but it just never worked. So now I am on my way and tomorrow I will see her.

I slept pretty good , rested up, nervous, but ready to see my daughter. It’s been a long time and hope it goes well. Like I said we have been talking on the phone over the years, but seeing her in person as an adult will be so different.

We met for lunch, I arrived early and watched out the window for her to walk up. It wasn’t long and there she was, just like the pictures she had sent. She’s tall, her brown hair shoulder length and those blue eyes. We hugged and went to our table. We spent about two hours talking, I had so much to say. I asked her if she had any questions, and she said no. So I told her a few things I always wanted to tell her as an adult. See looked like somethings were the first time she had ever heard it, which I expected. I just wanted her to know my side of what happened those many years ago. She told me about her cat and we reminisced about some of her pets over the years. She said she was going to Germany in a few days. It was great to see her, I only hope she felt the same way. Two hours went fast, I wanted to talk more but she had things to do, so we said our goodbyes and left.

I left and stopped to pick up a few things for the night, I am camping at Wompatuck State park in Hingham, MA. It’s located about 10 miles from Boston, in a very nice neighborhood. Kind of a strange place for a park like this, but a great idea. The trees where tall, reaching for the sky, very hilly, and I saw a couple deer. The weather had been hot there but a front went through and it was nice and cool. I went to bed early as I have another big day, I am heading farther North, From Rockland, MA. to Rockland, Maine. Another four hour drive.