A Blanket

It was a simple gesture that pretty much turned the entire hellish weekend around.

In March of 2011, we went back to New Jersey so I could take care of some business. It was a nice visit with Mom, and Papa L, and my cousin. The business, however, did not get taken care of, thanks to the NJ MVC still showing my then 13.5 year old hooptie as having a lien, because the financing company didn't notify them in 2002 that it had been paid off.

Our plan was to leave in the early evening of that Sunday. We tool a quick day trip with Papa L to a town about half an hour away. It was a fun, if odd, adventure and we enjoyed ourselves. The plan was to come back to Mom's house, pick her up and take J to a real NJ pizza place for some East Coast pizza. About 10 minutes from home, the rental stopped accelerating. I pulled over to see what was wrong and the car stalled. It would not start again. We were in the left hand median of the interstate. Lovely.

J called the rental company's roadside assistance to report the death. At about this time, the cops pulled up so they could move us to the other side of the road by pushing the car with theirs. All I could think of was "bumper's going to get damaged, they're going to charge me, I can't afford this shit..." Queue the waterworks from me. I had no idea where they came from, but the skies were inspired. At that point, a huge rainstorm hit. So there we were, in a dead HHR, being pushed across an interstate by the state police (who were wonderfully kind and helpful, by the way).

So, back to the phone call. We were told that we'd have to wait with the dead HHR until the replacement was brought to us. From Newark Airport. 45 minutes away. Because it's Sunday. And they're the only open branch within a hundred miles. And yes, it's still raining.

Two hours, some seriously fogged up windows, and several full bladders later, we were back on our way. This new one was also an HHR. This would end up being a lucky break later in the story.

Eventually, we got back to Mom's (an hour AFTER we wanted to leave to go home). The rain had stopped and I simply HAD to have my pizza, so we went to dinner anyway. We spent a bit more time with Mom and Papa L, ate, and argued (which is traditional for Mom and me). We then packed up the car and headed out. It was 7pm. We had about a 6 hour ride ahead of us.

As we neared the PA border, it started to rain again. At the border, it became a wintry mix. Within 10 miles, Full Blown Blizzard. Fortunately, the HHR was an AWD. That, combined with my pro driving skills kept us from dying. It took us five hours to travel what would have normally taken about twoish hours. Interstate 80 in Eastern and Central PA runs right through the Appalachians. We're talking Donner Pass shit here. There are parts where the edge of the road drops straight down. The roads were not plowed at all, and the only other traffic we saw were 18 wheelers. Why? Well, because 80 was closed! We didn't know this until the next day, when we read about the storm of the century in the paper, because the nifty electronic signs didn't say anything about it.

The HHR kept on the road quite nicely, but the windshield wipers couldn't really keep up. I had to pull over while one of us jumped out to clean the 3" of snow from the windows. Of course, each time, the trucks would hurtle past us, racing down the hills. If they tried to use the brakes, they'd have ended up at the bottom of a ravine. Needless to say, it was a stressful five hours.

At one point, we threw up our hands and said "Eff this! We need to pull over!" Of course, we were in the middle of nowhere. There was one tiny town with two hotels and a truck stop. The problem turned out to be that everyone decided to give up at this very same town. Every room was booked. J and I got into an argument (our nerves were frayed to the point of breaking at that point) and decided to stop at the truck stop. I was cold because it was the middle of March, and it had been warm, so my coat was packed under a bunch of stuff in the trunk. We were discussing sleeping in the parking lot to wait the storm out, but neither of us were really into that idea. We were both angry, uncomfortable, moody, cranky, and overly exhausted. He got out to grab himself a snack (I didn't want anything).

While he was inside, I called out of work for the next day, then shut the phone off. I closed my eyes and stewed. I started blaming every single decision I'd made throughout the entire trip for this one horrible stroke of badness. I was sitting there, shivering in this stupid rental, wanting to cry, but just too damn tired to do anything about it. When the door opened, I didn't even open my eyes. When he sat down next to me, I still kept them closed. I heard ripping cardboard. Finally, I looked over at him. J was unwrapping a new dark green fleece blanket.

"You're freezing I got this for you so you'd be warm".

He wrapped me in the blanket, and I did tear up a bit at that point. This plain, green truck stop blanket was the most thoughtful gift I'd ever received. It wasn't fancy, it wasn't beautiful. It was warm, and just what I needed at that moment. I grabbed his hand and we hugged for a while. I apologized for being moody, and so did he. We kissed and made up and sat there for a while, watching the snow fall. It was illuminated by the orange lights overhead, but it was beautiful. We decided we'd risk it and see if we could find another town.

Two hours (and about 60 miles) later, the snow had basically stopped. The roads were clear and safe again. But at that point, it was going on 2:30am and we were both falling asleep. We were still about two hours from home, so we found a motel to stay at. The next morning, we woke up and made the rest of the trip home (after some breakfast).

To this day, that blanket is still one of my favorite things in the world. It reminds me that J will always be there to keep me safe, and to keep me warm, and to make me smile.