This is sad to say, but my son-in-law died last year. He and my daughter were married for 35 years. After years in Tampa, Florida, they grew weary of the hurricanes that struck the area. They moved from Tampa to the small inland town of Starke, Florida.
Shortly after moving, my son-in-law began experiencing pain in his chest. Thinking it was a pulled muscle, he visited a doctor. To his complete surprise, he was diagnosed with Stage 4 Lung Cancer. That was in April 2025. He passed away in September of the same year.
This year my daughter decided to sell the house and move back to Texas, where she has a family support system. After a few months on the market, she found a buyer for her home. My daughter told us about the sale, and my wife and I planned to fly from DFW to Jacksonville, Florida, an hour’s drive from Starke.
This was our plan. We would fly from DFW to Jacksonville, Florida. My youngest daughter would pick us up at the airport and drive us to Starke, where we had a hotel reservation. The next day, we would help my oldest daughter pack and load a rented U-Haul trailer. The closing date for selling the house was August 31st. After that, I would accompany my youngest daughter driving with a loaded trailer to Texas. My wife would accompany my oldest daughter, with three cats, to Texas.
They say life is what happens when you have other plans.
My wife and I got up at 7 am to prepare for a 9 am Uber ride from our house to the DFW airport. The Uber driver picked us up on time at 9 am. Our driver negotiated the Dallas Metroplex traffic with skill and calmness. We arrived at the airport at 9:54, six minutes ahead of schedule. I was so impressed I
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gave the driver a $20 tip.
Our flight was at 1 pm.
We allowed ourselves time to go through the TSA maze and then relax and have a leisurely breakfast with coffee.
At noon, life took a turn for the worse. First, we were informed our flight was delayed. Minutes later, we were informed the flight was canceled. The staff told passengers they were trying to find another plane. We were also informed that we would have to move to another gate. Like refugees fleeing from an invading army, we gathered our bags and moved to another gate.
At 1 pm we boarded our plane. My wife and I sat in section 33, conveniently located near the bathrooms. We had settled in when the captain announced why our previous flight was canceled. The air conditioning did not work. In Texas, in August, that is unacceptable. He also announced our flight was delayed because the black box was not working. I suppose that means if we crashed and scattered across three counties, the FAA would have no idea what happened.
Finally, the black box was programmed correctly, and we were promised that we would take off in a few minutes. A few minutes later, the plane began taxiing down the runway, and we were en route to Florida.
We arrived at Jacksonville airport at 6:30 pm. We were behind schedule, but that was ok. We retrieved our luggage and found my daughter. She drove us to our hotel, and life was in balance once again.
The next day was Friday, and we began helping our daughters pack and load household items into the rented trailer. One thing I failed to factor in was Florida's heat and humidity. At the tender age of 76, I felt the dynamic duo of Florida’s weather to be a little draining. But I remembered the adage: when the going gets tough, the tough get going. I soldiered on. I persevered.
By Sunday we had completely loaded the trailer. Mission accomplished. It was 3:30 in the afternoon. We could return to our hotel room with a much-needed shower and a nap.
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My youngest daughter informed me she and I were leaving in an hour. No shower. No nap. No problem. I could do this.
We left in an hour as she promised, and we began our westward trek. At 7 pm we were seventy miles from Pensacola. That meant we were getting closer to Alabama, our next state. I got a phone call from my wife, and as I talked to her, I happened to look at the trailer in the outside rear-view mirror. I saw a tire explode and completely shred. I told my wife I would call her back. My daughter somehow drove off the interstate and parked the car and trailer safely. We sat there in the darkness and the stillness. I thought we would spend the night in the car, and I would walk to the nearest town for help in the morning. My daughter said the magic words: Roadside Assistance. She called, and we had a new tire in 30 minutes. We were back on the road, Texas-bound.
Seventeen hours later, my daughter parked the car and trailer in a parking lot in Texas. This was it. We had arrived at my older daughter’s new home in an apartment complex.
We were tired. We were exhausted. It was 9 am and we both felt as if we could sleep for a week,
The landlord had hidden two keys to the apartment under a rock. I found the rock and retrieved the keys. We stepped into the apartment's air-conditioned comfort.
I remembered the U-Haul company had a website called “Labor Market.” I could hire two people to unload for us. That would be wonderful. I found the website and completed a form outlining our requirements. Within two hours, two men unloaded the trailer. They were our saviors.
I fell asleep at 6 pm and woke up at 3:30 am when my wife and older daughter stepped into the apartment. They had been on the road for 15 hours. When they entered Texas, the car began shaking, but they successfully arrived at the destination. Later, my wife drove the car to a garage she knew. They learned two tires were bad, and so were the struts. The struts act to stabilize the car.
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The car was repaired, and the shaking is just a memory.
I conclude this story with advice. If you need help moving, please do not hesitate to call someone else. I will be on a cruise.
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