I'll Be Back!!

Dear Hearts, First of all, I hope you all enjoyed a lovely month of May. What with beautiful Spring weather (for the most part), splendid blooms, May Day, Mother's Day (there's a reason this holiday is in May as I contend that M.A.Y. stands for "Mom All Year" -- not just one day) celebrations, and the three day Memorial Day weekend -- thank you so much for your ultimate sacrifice, fallen veterans -- it's quite the month. One which unofficially ushers us into summer.

The U.S. holiday weekend was not lost on this Happy Heart Writer as I did reflect on those military folks who lost their lives defending our freedom. And like most U.S. folk, I planned to take advantage of the time off and beautiful weather here in NorCal. However, I certainly did not anticipate the events which unfolded on Saturday of said national holiday weekend.

The day started out absolutely perfect. At seventy-ish degrees and sunny, I ventured out in my trusty EV-hybrid steed, BB (stands for "Baby Beluga"), and wound up at a popular local state park in the North Bay where multiple magnificent hikes in the Redwoods abound. My intention was to arrive at around three P.M., hike for a bit, followed by attending a campfire talk and film about the Giant Trees and the promise of free s'mores.

All was well until I returned from an exhilarating hike to BB's was parking spot so I could stow my hiking stick and snag my jacket for the evening's event.

I knew something was amiss when I pressed the "unlock" button on my key fob and it flashed a tiny red light for less than one second.

Ruh roh. Gulp . . .

I could open BB's door, but when I sat in the driver's seat and pushed her "start" button, nothing happened. Zip. Zero. Nada. Ugh. You know that sinking feeling you get that tells you you're in for one of those "unknown adventures"? Yeah. That one. What immediately ensued contained a bevy of well-meaning bystanders -- sweet folks who truly wanted to help but were just as -- if not more -- clueless than yours truly. Armed with an inch and a half thick vehicle manual that may as well have been written in Urdu, and surrounded by onlookers, I finally decided to call my son (who lived about twenty minutes or so away) after a gentleman who appeared to be no less than ninety years old thumbed through BB's ownership manual, guessing as he went, and offered to give me a jump but had no idea what to do. I know. I know, Dear Hearts. He was so sweet and caring. And his lovely elderly wife patiently waited as he fumbled through the trunk of his car looking for jumper cables. But I knew I was already in trouble. I didn't need the situation to escalate. My son -- whom I pulled away from smoking ribs for expected company -- graciously showed up as soon as he possibly could, speed read the vehicle manual (because his I.Q. is about fifty points higher than mine), hooked a portable charger up to BB, and went to work. However . . . . it was all for naught as BB was dead in the water. Ding. Dong. Dead. Long story short (I'll spare you the finer details, Dear Hearts): Yes, BB had to be towed to the service department of my dealership to the tune of almost five hundred bucks on a flat bed truck b/c she couldn't be put into neutral (although, we later figured out how to do this manually -- a day late and a dollar short so to speak -- which meant a regular tow truck would have sufficed in the beginning), which was about thirty miles north of the state park; my very expensive insurance only covers fifteen miles, so that's fun; not to mention, it was a holiday weekend, therefore, no trucks were available to be dispatched Saturday evening. I had to wait until Sunday. I spent the night at my son and sweet daughter-in-love's home (their company had gone home by the time we arrived). The car was towed the next day by a wonderful young man by the name of Emir who is an immigrant from Turkey, working hard -- seven days a week -- to build a fleet of trucks and eventually purchase land for a chicken farm (Emir and I bonded on the thirty mile drive over a multitude of topics -- he's now my best friend). And . . . you guessed it, Dear Hearts: The service department was closed until Tuesday morning. No loaners or rentals available until at least Tuesday evening as these vehicles had yet to be returned from the holiday weekend. As many of you know, I am a Hospice Chaplain and I rely on my vehicle to drive all over my county to visit patients and their families. Yes, I contacted my agency first thing Tuesday morning and, of course, they were lovely -- very understanding. However, for me, this part of the ordeal was the worst . . . .not getting to see my patients. But, Dear Hearts, I cannot emphasize enough how fortunate -- even wonderful -- I was / am. Let's count the blessings together, shall we?: 1. My location was not only safe, it was incredibly beautiful and peaceful-- as opposed to the side of a busy scary highway.

2. I met a plethora of nice people - including the park staff.. As an EXTRAvert, this is a plus (Don't judge me. My daughter says I collect people -- which is true). I wasn't all alone.

3. I had a safe and hospitable place to stay the night with supportive loved ones -- as opposed to an expensive hotel.

4. A skilled and friendly tow truck driver safely and comfortably transported BB and me to my location of choice.

5. My dealership service department started working on BB first thing Tuesday morning and had her up and running good as new by that afternoon.

6. My place of employment was understanding and colleagues filled in the gap to care for my patients and families in my absence.

   
   

   When you think about it, Dear Hearts, the worst thing that happened over the holiday weekend?: I missed out on the campfire talk and film about the Giant Redwoods (in the Redwoods) and complimentary s'mores.

   
   

   But, trust me . . . . . . . I'll be back!! -- Happy Heart Writer