Westward, Ho! Day 7: The End

I hate goodbyes. When faced with one, even a daily, run-of-the-mill parting between friends, I tend to want to schedule the next meeting. Right then. My deep psychological insight tells me that this may be significant: I'm afraid people won't come back!

The Red River, where GG Grandma Ida's first husband drowned. He never came back--see, it happens!

Bison: not a cause of unadulterated terror

Really, why am I wasting my time trying to become a lawyer again? Clearly, analysis is my calling. Or at least professional navel-gazing. Alas, this requires yet another degree--and another license. This is a prospect which fills me with unadulterated terror. 


Which probably is another topic in need of deep psychological insight. But we will say goodbye to that conversation and return to my not liking goodbyes. 

I think I really just don't like a good thing to end. And this trip was absolutely a Very Good Thing. But all good things must come to an end. So here it is. 

Mom

We drove 12 more hours, from Mitchell, South Dakota, to Oak Park, Illinois. We determined that North Dakota is more attractive than South Dakota; that rattlesnake warnings tend to inhibit walk-abouts at rest stops; and that the newest fast food fad is sweet potato fries. 

We listened to an Amelia Peabody Emerson mystery, which was quite droll. We worked on Mom's smartphone skills. And we gloated over the fact that we knew exactly what time it was. 

And then we were done. :-) 

I am so grateful to my Mom for making this trip with me--and for making this trip possible. This was one of the best weeks I've ever had. Thank you, Mommy--love you! And I am so grateful that my Dad was hanging out with Jonathan back at the ranch in Oak Park, so that I could enjoy myself without worrying about Jon being lonely. Thank you, Dad, and thanks for all the handyman work, too--love you!

And, finally, thanks to all of you who have been reading. 

Mom and me at Yellowstone :-)

The End.