Sunday didn't seem much better as a day to kick around. I went to lunch at a diner just off the hotel, after getting up relatively early, and learned that like noon on a Sunday is a bad time to go to lunch because every person in the world was there. Nice diner, though, festooned with the sorts of inspirational quotes that really get to the heart of people who aren't like me.
My mother called to ask if I'd want to see her for dinner. She's still got some weeks of work left closing down her practice, so, she's spending several days a week staying at the convent of her alma mater --- they've got plenty of room given the shortage of nuns --- and Sunday was her day to drive up from South Jersey and her sister's, where she spends the long weekend. She also pointed out that I might visit my father and her sister. That seemed better to me; I hadn't seen my aunt in years, and I expected my father to be having a harder time with things than my mother had.
The drive --- surprisingly directly south, particularly since New Jersey doesn't tend to have roads that lead directly south like that --- was tolerably interesting and let me discover one county fairgrounds which I didn't know was there. I don't remember whether I've been to my aunt's current house before; the house seemed familiar but it might just be that it's the sort of house my aunt would have, if that distinction makes sense.
It was also a bit of a shambles, cluttered with all sorts of stuff not just from my parents' move but also from her work. She'd retired just that Friday, but because the office had been flooded following a water main break she hadn't had the time to go in and sort out what was in her office to keep and what to throw away and what to give away to the needy former office-mates. She'd just had a narrow window to stuff everything in boxes and drag it home. So there were just enough places to sit for the three people ordinarily in the house.
But both my aunt and my father were feeling good. My father said particularly that after the chaos of Thursday, which he didn't detail, he felt great, this incredible stress and tension that's been chewing up up for months suddenly dissolved. He'd slept better the previous three days than he had in nearly a year. And my aunt was, besides feeling great about the first days of retirement, also glad to have company and this exciting swirl of activity to keep busy with. I think that my father, at least, was sincere in his relief. Having the thing you dread finally happen is, at least, a solution.
So we caught up some and I talked to my aunt about Airport '14 and what life in Michigan is like and a bit about our Pennsylvania Parks Tour and all that. (She's offered to host bunny_hugger and me, particularly if we want to get to Clementon Park, which we do because it's a small local park perpetually on the brink of collapse.) But she did, in remarkable Internet Introvert fashion, eventually excuse herself to go up to her bedroom and sit a while; I figured that was about as good a signal as I could have that I'd been visiting enough. I talked with my father a bit more, and said my goodbyes and drove back to the hotel.
The cats, against all expectation, took the relocation pretty well, even if they were temporarily confined to just my parents' bedroom.
Trivia: The medals passed out at the Albertville and Savoie 1992 Winter Olympics included an engraved center of Lalique crystal. Austrian bronze medalist Stefan Kreiner dropped his medal while packing and it broke. Jean-Claude Killy, resort-owner and organizer who brought the games there (and a former medal winner himself) replaced it, but warned Kreiner that there would not be another if this one broke. Source: Encyclopedia of the Modern Olympic Movement, Editors John E Findling, Kimberly D Pelle.
Currently Reading: The Kind Of Motion We Call Heat: A History Of The Kinetic Theory of Gases In The 19th Century, Volume I, Stephen G Brush.