Have To Give Props To The Fam

I dread every time I pick up Father from the airport.  Not just weather or traffic concerns -- picking him up ends my temporary, still-sheltered life as a grown-up living an independent life.  The cat is no longer away, therefore this mouse cannot play.

Things got a little complicated last night when I had to pick him up.  It was raining all day, and the forecast called for the storm to turn into snow.  Moreover, there would be a small transition window where it would turn into freezing rain and/or ice before becoming snow.  It was about an hour long, and that hour fell right when I had to go down to the airport.  Luckily, that change held off, and I was bringing Father home under a steady rain.

I poked my head out around 4 or 5 in the morning, and I experienced two scary things: The transition did change overnight and we had snow, a lot of snow, a lot more than Belinda Jensen forecasted (which was a coating to two inches -- shit man, we got, like, four!); and a noise from downstairs.  I think it was Father, apparently still jazzed up from living it up in Vegas, watching something.  Glad he hasn't said anything about hearing me upstairs.

I set my alarm clock a little earlier than I planned anticipating shoveling the driveway in order to get my car out to my study visit.  But when I went out, it was virtually clean.  There was some snow on the driveway, maybe a coating, and it was still coming down, but I had a much easier time clearing some of the driveway than I thought I would.  And, have to admit, that's all because of Father, who probably got up early (or stayed up) and shoveled it, all by himself.  For a guy who's 66, even if he's a prick some of the time, that's pretty fuckin' badass.

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Grandmother's been bothering me again, especially with the way she comes out of her room every time I make a noise in the common areas of the house and how every time Mother and Father say something to me she repeats it.  But she was heads-up today.

After I had to go to the study visit, I changed out of the snowboots, put on my work shoes, and told Grandmother I was gone.  When I got into my car and was about to turn on the engine, I heard Grandmother's voice.  Why in the hell is coming out in the blowing snow and biting wind?

It was a call.  Whatever.  No, I didn't understand; as I got back out of the car to answer the phone, Grandmother was rapping the passenger-side front window ... holding my cellphone.  Oh, so that's why she came out!  I forgot that I left it on the dining room table before I started shoveling.  I had the intention of getting it before leaving, but of course, I didn't.  But Grandmother was there -- to save me.