The Wedding - To the Wedding & The Event

After we cleared security, we had to get to our gate. Dad is not in the best shape and has to stop and rest frequently. Fortunately, our airport has moving sidewalks. So dad and I meandered to the gate and sat down to wait for boarding. I don't mind going slowly (unless that means we will miss our flight), it gives me a break from the crazy, hectic schedule I normally have to maintain.

I have a thing for personal space. My family was never a hugging/cuddling type of family. So my personal bubble is sacred space. I can't stand close talkers.

Our flight was only half full. Yahoo, lots of space. Nope. I sat down and, plop, dad sits right next to me. In the center seat. And then leans in my direction. It made me think of that commercial for cologne or something, where one person is on the subway surrounded by 5 or 6 other people all squeezed in and the rest of the car was empty. So here I am trapped between the plane and dad.

And I realize that his dentures need some serious attention. Not something you notice from across the room during polite conversation at home. So I have an hour to deal with feeling all claustrophobic.

The plane takes off, and I comment that we are flying north. In my family, we are always right. Some members are worse than others about being right, even when they are so very wrong. I have learned over the years to have something to back up my rightness, dad is just always right. So my comment about flying north is met with, "No, we are going south." No we are not. So after several rounds of are not, are too, are not, art too, I am wondering why I ever said anything. I pronounce that if we were flying south, I would not be seeing the mountains out the window, they would be on the other side of the plane. That yes, we would be flying south, but we weren't yet. And then as if on cue, the plane banked and turned and we were flying south. The response from dad, "huh."

The aggravation level is rising. I am sleep deprived, over the allotted amount of dad time, trapped on a plane with my personal bubble being invaded. I'm in trouble. What was I thinking?

As we fly into Reno, I comment on how anyone could live there. It is just so brown. I have a thing for green and moisture. That is when I learn that dad was stationed at some base in Nevada at some point in his military career. New fact for the dad file.

We land and get to exit the plane. The Reno airport does not have moving sidewalks. We have plenty of time, so we stop a lot on the way to the car rental counter. Dad is under the impression that I know every last detail about the trip by heart. So the fact that I don't know where to pick up the rental car bothers him. I am very prepared with printouts of the flight info, car rental info, motel reservations, directions to the wedding. But I have never been here before, so there is still a learning curve. So I leave dad where I think the shuttle will pick us up and go in to find out. I have chosen poorly, the shuttle picks us up on the other side of the building.

And not next to the building, out past a parking lot and by two yellow posts. The person in line in front of me told the shuttle driver that we were coming so he waited. But I got to hear about how the shuttle was too far away.

Once we got the rental car, we were off. Got on the freeway no problem. Found the first turn off, no problem. After that dad seemed to think that I knew exactly where we were and when we needed to turn and how much farther it was. Have I mentioned that I have never been to Nevada before. My designated role when Ducky and I travel is to navigate. But today, I was navigating and driving.

We arrived without a single wrong turn. We have not had breakfast yet. The lodge has a restaurant. That closed at 9:30. So after introductions we head back to town for sustenance.

Fast forward through the rest of the day. We get back to the lodge. We hang out in my brothers cabin. My brother and I have a bonding moment over dad having to be right about something that really doesn't matter. My job is to make sure dad gets dressed on time. The wedding is nice, preachy but nice. The reception is nice. We sit with two very chatty ladies, so at least there is new territory to be discussed. And then it is time to head back to Reno.