I was tired. My days had been long and my nights way too short. Driving down the road I was fighting fatigue brought on by the hypnotic view of the white lines on the road. This was a trip I was dreading. I had heard from a cousin that my grandma was in very poor health. This may be my last time to see her and I was determined to make this trip even though I was sleep deprived.
I turned the radio up and began to whistle along with the song that was on. Well, I say whistle, but the truth is I was only making noise – I’m not very good at whistling. But the music was helping me to stay awake.
My thoughts turned to the reason for this trip, my grandma. She had been such a big part of my youth spending about half of my summer vacation with her and grandpa every year. Grandpa had passed six years earlier and Grandma had gone down-hill ever since. My family was actually surprised she had lasted so long after his death. They had been together since their mid-teens and pretty much inseparable. They worked together to build their own house from the basement up. They owned their own business; he was the worker and she the bookkeeper. There were not many hours that they were apart.
I passed a sign that told me it was only a mile to the next rest area. I had to stop and get some caffeine to keep me awake. I pulled into the parking space as my phone rang. Putting the car into park I answered the call. It was my cousin and my grandma had just passed away. I guess she couldn’t wait any longer. The trip would now be for a funeral instead of a visit. I was hurting that I didn’t get to see her, but glad she was finally at peace. As I walked to the rest area the tears began to form.
Written for Fandango’s One-Word Challenge (FOWC) – whistle