Memorial Day Weekend Trip

Memorial Day weekend

The car was loaded with all our gear for the Memorial Day weekend trip. We sat in the car in the pre-dawn light, waiting. My father in his characteristic, passive-aggressive style was revving the engine loudly to let my mom know we were waiting for her. This was how all our trips began. My mom running late and my father gripping the steering-wheel, chewing his tongue, revving the engine. 

Like almost every family vacation we took, we were going camping. This time to Provincetown, Massachusetts. When she finally came to the door Mom leaned out and yelled over the noise of the engine, “I’m not going, the weather forecast says rain all weekend.” 

I froze. I think we all did. WHAT was happening? My parents didn’t have the stablest relationship, but we’d planned this trip for a while and this sudden defection from a family trip was unprecedented. Were we still going? I held my breath, unsure of which outcome  sounded worse; canceling the trip, or going without her.

I don’t remember much conversation following her announcement. Then, without anyone getting out of the car, including my father, we backed out of the driveway and headed to Cape Cod for the three-day weekend. I’m not sure how long it took me to start breathing again, but I think it was at least a few hours.

Cold and rainy

As usual, my mother was correct. We put up the tent in the rain, ate dinner in the rain, and went to bed in the rain. It was so cold we put on all our (dry) clothes and slept in them, miserably huddled in our sleeping bags, shivering and listening to the rain pelt our tent.

To this day I’m not sure the weather is what kept my mother home. My parents had cruel, quiet fights that invariably ended with him not speaking to her, and her fuming, both of which could go on for days. It was distinctly possible that a fight rather than the weather forecast precipitated her decision.

At the campgrounds, we met friends of my parents. I don’t remember his name, but hers was Bunny, so who could forget that? They had gone fishing, and Saturday night it had finally stopped raining so we enjoyed a fish fry by the fire. Bunny informed us that the less you wear in a sleeping bag, the warmer you are. That night we all climbed into our bags and undressed, chucking our clothes all over the tent.

Finally, the sun

By Sunday morning the sun was out and it warmed up a bit. We showered and headed out. The day was glorious as days at the beach are after a cold, soaking rain. We ‘surfed’ down the huge sand dunes, ran along the empty beach, and visited the army-navy store where we spent hours looking through all manner of junk and treasures. 

Through the weekend I kept thinking about my mom. Would she be there when we returned? If she was, how long would it be before she and my dad started speaking again? Even if a fight hadn’t been the impetus for it, her sudden decision would not go unpunished. Would she be mad at us for going without her? Would she gloat that she had stayed warm and dry at home?

An odd puzzle

This trip was the first, but not the last family trip we made with a member absent. That fall we attended my father’s college reunion without my older sister. It too was a great weekend. No one fought, we had fun and enjoyed the festivities. I realized then that we were like a puzzle. The kind for little kids that sits in a frame. Any five pieces fit but manoeuvering to get all six pieces in didn’t. Trying only accentuated all our odd shapes and edges. One piece, any piece had to be missing for the puzzle to work.

Though it began badly that Memorial Day weekend trip is one of my fondest memories. Once it stopped raining we had a great time, and without my mom there my dad loosened up and had fun. Ordinarily, a famed cheapskate, he gave us money to spend on crappy food and ridiculous purchases in town. For those few days it felt like he was one of us, unsupervised kids on a weekend spree. 

If they were still alive, Memorial Day would have been my parents’ 53rd anniversary.