In Y2K20 <----that's code for the year 2020, also known as the year of the beginning of the COVID-19 pandemic. The winter holidays in the U.S., Thanksgiving and Christmas, which are both extremely family-oriented were a wash for me. I couldn't go to Washington State to be with my family, and they couldn't come to be with me. I had my Thanksgiving feast in a food trade with my co-grandparent friends. They gave me Boardwalk and I sent them Park Place, but we never got to break bread together. Christmas was the same, except that I sat and blubbered in my aloneness because it was the first time since the birth of my child that we weren't together for the celebration of Jesus' birth. It killed me. I looked to Y2K21 for another chance, if I survived the pandemic. Surely the worst would be over by then? Yeah...not so much.
2021 hasn't proved to be much better, holiday-wise. Although we have all been vaccinated and many travel restrictions have been lifted, COVID-19--the virus of the century (so far)--is still with us, with new variants that make safety unlikely. While it is possible to fly now, my daughter's place in Washington is still under construction and they wouldn't have a place for me at Thanksgiving, and even Christmas was iffy. I decided to take advantage of my sister and brother-in-law's standing invitation to be with them in Ballwin, Missouri, near St. Louis, for both holidays. I hadn't seen their new home yet. I decided to drive the distance myself--a little over four hours or so. Packing and preparing to be gone that long was a nightmare. I just didn't want to subject others to having to drive to Indiana just to pick me and my "stuff" up. I wanted to be off the road by dark and miss as much St. Louis traffic as possible. Thus, with brother-in-law's directions, I headed out. Here is what I wrote on Facebook after arrival:
I made it safely to my sister's in Ballwin, MO, on Tuesday, but not before my senility kicked in. Ballwin is just outside of St. Louis. Thus, I got on I-70 in Plainfield, Indiana, and headed west, then eventually got on I-270, per my bro-in-law's directions. Was supposed to go about 40 miles or so on 270, then get off on Exit 9 (Manchester)...which I did...but it wasn't 40 miles, and the exit didn't say Manchester. And a couple of routes split up just past the exit, and I no longer knew where I was or what I was supposed to do. It just didn't look as I expected. I should be really close to St. Louis, but the signs made it look like what I was close to was Southern Illinois University. I pulled off the road and called my bro-in-law.
After a few seconds of explanations, he figured things out. "You haven't crossed the Mississippi River yet, Peg. You're still in Illinois!"
It was a DUH moment for me. I've been to/through St. Louis before. I KNOW you have to go over the Mississippi before you are actually in Missouri, but somehow, it didn't click. Who knew that I-270 west would have an exit 9 in Illinois and again in Missouri? I felt like an idiot!
I backtracked, got back on the interstate, drove the 40 miles to the OTHER exit 9, and eventually found my way, but geez.....
Unfortunately, that was not the end of the travel story. My directions said that Manchester Road would have 15 stoplights to go through before I would turn off. I was given landmarks to look for before the turn that had to be made to the left. What I didn't know was that Manchester is a main artery that is heavily traveled with lots of shopping centers and businesses on both sides of the road. Traffic was slow and bumper-to-bumper. I had to keep an eye on the traffic to prevent a fender-bender from inattention, so I only occasionally looked for the landmarks. I had lost count of the traffic signals after four or five. Finally--FINALLY--I noticed a significant landmark and the tiny little sign for Old Ballwin Road that only went to the left and had no stoplight. Whew! According to my directions, I was in the right neighborhood, just a street or two away from my sister's. And then the new landmarks didn't happen for me. It occurred to me that I was driving far longer than I should, so I pulled over into the parking lot of a red brick building that said, "Msgr. Buccheit Parish Hall" on it. Aha! A church! Surely my bro-in-law would know where it is and could guide me to their house. So, I called.
Bro-in-law Jim seemed not to know where I was! I stepped out of my car to check the street sign to give him cross streets. One was New Ballwin Road, and the other was provided to me by a young mother who was walking to her car from the building: Dennison. When I told Jim the cross streets, suddenly he said, "I know where you are!" He then came to find me and lead me back to their house maybe half a mile away. At last! And why did Jim not recognize the name of the church where I landed? Apparently, the name of the church is Holy Infant Catholic Church. The name of parish hall is not as well known. Such is my luck!
The only other problem I encountered during the trip was that the sun was in my eyes the whole way. At this point in the season, the sun stays in the south. It came streaming through the driver's side window. Moving the visor over worked for awhile until the sun got even lower in the sky. What it meant about my driving was that the sun was behind all of the road signs, putting them in silhouette and impossible to read until I was right on top of them with little time to change lanes if required. Argh!
Now that I've made the trip once, it won't be so difficult next time. (I hope!) Here's to 2022!
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