Ever since my mom got a death sentence at the end of March, I was determined to get her to the beach one last time.
I cleared my schedule for most of the week last week, and we were all set. Until she looked at "this thing called the 10-day forecast. I didn't even know you could do that."
It forecast rain for our entire trip, so she said she didn't want to go. I canceled my off time to save it for later. Of course, two days later, the outlook for the trip was pretty much clear.
I asked for my days off back and got last Sunday through Wednesday. With Lauren's wedding Saturday, I actually had five days off in a row.
It was an early rising for me Monday morning for the drive to Pensacola, though mom complained about leaving too late for most of the drive. We left at 9:21.
Mom sees the new fountains on Clearview. "What the fuck is that?"
With stops at Waffle House and the Florida welcome center, we made it there in about 4 1/2 hours. A couple times I drifted over to the edge of the next lane while I glanced at my phone or whatever.
There was never any real danger, but mom basically grips the door handle for dear life the entire trip. She yelled every time I drifted. Eventually, I ask her to stop worrying and yelling. "Ok. I'll just let you hit a fucking car in the right lane."
Having never booked a room for the trip, our plan was to pick out a place when we got there. I know that sounds crazy to most folks, but that's the way it used to be done. And that's the way we did this.
My mom, however, is quite the panicker. The first place was sold out as was the next place. "Oh my god. We're fucking screwed."
It just so happened that we were next to Margarativille, so I says what the heck, let's stay at the grandiose place for your last trip. They were sold out starting Wednesday, but we took a room for Monday and Tuesday.
And boy was it nice. The service was par excellence. The room was plush. As mom pointed out, "there's a fucking light in the shower." It was a walk-in with a lot of space, and I thought, "man, I have got to get me one of these."
And you can order food while lounging at the pool, and they bring it right out to you. Now, that's living.
We took a long stroll Monday night to the pier, and though mom was completely worn out and barely made it back, it was a beautiful walk and something I'll always remember.
And some other shots of the beach and the back of the hotel.
And now the front of the hotel.
Tuesday was spent going back and forth from the beach to the hotel pool. It was a gorgeous day, and I used most of my time just staring out into the Gulf, listening to the waves brush ashore and just contemplating life.
At the pool, I observed all these happy families. I noticed that kids love to say, "hey mom, dad watch this." After reminding them to watch a second time, the kids simply jump into the pool. I laughed at this silliness and then realized I used to do the exact same thing.
For dinner Tuesday night we want to Flounder's. I mean, how could me not? When I told Kevin at dinner the week before that I was going to Pensacola for the first time, he said "you have to go to Flounder's." At the hotel pool, mom and I each overheard separate convos with one person telling the other, "oh, you have to go to Flounder's." OK, I get it. We went.
We had the seafood nachos. What a monstrosity of cheese, peppers, crab meat and shrimp.
It was vacation, so we got a piece of cake for dessert. It was more than a piece. It had fudge and chocolate chips mixed in as well.
We got up early Wednesday to sneak a few more beach hours in before checkout. When I woke up, mom handed me the bill. "They slipped a bill under the door. Remind you to get the fuck out."
On the way home, we stopped in Biloxi to eat at the Half Shell, site of Paul's bachelor dinner. Mom got the seafood stuffed portabella. She wouldn't stop raving about it the whole time she was eating it and the whole way home.
Well until we hit a downpour in New Orleans east, and she started freaking out again. And that was our trip, a memorable two-day getaway that I'll treasure forever.
We took a selfie by the beach. I believe it was my first selfie.
Oh and check out rule No. 7 at the hotel pool.
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