November 2: St. Augustine to Pembroke Pines

Holly presented us with a delicious breakfast of quiche and fruit bread and fresh fruit. We became better acquainted over breakfast, the warm sunlight streaming in the bay window, the blue sea visible in the distance. She recounted the blessing of Cal's work as teacher on the life of her son. And she reviewed their family history for us. We left with a promise to return and use the place again.



I called Kevin Hake as we drove away, arranging to meet him at the Waffle House just off of I-95 in Palm Bay. But we never met as he went to an alternate restaurant. And as he had no cell phone with him, we never connnected. Throughout the day I tried to call his office, his home, his wife's cell, never reaching anyone. I prayed for them because I became alarmed. Later he wrote to apologize for the snafu, saying when he had missed me he had gone home to try to sleep off some of his sleep-deprivation so that his mind would function better at work.

Mother and I had a cup of tea/coffee and read the paper left by the last customer, got gas, and returned to our drive. The drive went more quickly than I had imagined, but the last hour and a half was very trying as we drove in to storms. It was with relief and pleasure that I drove in to our driveway at two p.m. The children ran out to greet us. I had them unload the car, received their excitement over the gift of a new trash container that awaited me in the clean kitchen, and then I whisked Becky away to shop for groceries and to thank her for her management of the home in my absence with her first spa pedicure which has been a deep, dark secret from the siblings until this post.

Our trip was over. The trip that was conceived a year before. I had not shared the idea of the trip with even Cal until late last spring. When he blessed the idea (after telling me I was insane), I kept it in prayer, finally proposing it to M in late summer. (She also told me I was insane.) And up to the last minute I knew I could cancel. I had carefully planned the trip after hearing her enthusiasm for it. We called it our "Trip to Bountiful". She had feared that she could never return again, but I believe she faced her ghosts with courageous resignation and found pleasure she hadn't imagined. Certainly God's blessing was over the entire journey. Both she and I experienced severe health issues just before the trip began, neither telling the other of our problems, both of us wondering if we would have to cancel.