The Hills Don’t Agree With Me [Family]

So I survived the Blairsville adventure, though it was touch-and-go for a while. A lot of the details are hazy, mostly due to the absurdity of it all. The team consisting of my dad, my granddad (who has early-onset Alzheimer’s), and me was not well suited for the task. But we managed as best we could and got the job–broadly defined–done.

It was nice to spend Saturday afternoon and a bit of Sunday morning with my Grandma and Uncle Jeff. But then, the team headed out for the 800-mile trip to Blairsville, GA. We made it in decent time–and having forgot only one pill serving for Granddad–and Blairsville looked very similar to the last time I had been there, in the mid 90s.

Dad was concerned about how much I might reveal about the next three days spent packing up various items in the house and getting it on the market, but there is far too much to share in this space. So a short recap will have to do: we made 6–count them, 6–trips to Home Depot for various supplies, ate at a variety of buffets around town, and found lots of interesting pictures and documents in every nook and crany.

And we got it all (candidly, only what Grandma specifically told us to get–we left lots behind) in a 10-foot Budget truck, which Dad and Granddad drove back to south Florida. It was a necessary task, and we made the best of it. Goodbye Blairsville.