The Vacation, Part 1: Words With Friends

With the pandemic hampering all holiday travel the last couple of years, Robyn and I decided that this was the perfect time to visit our respective families. I haven’t seen my mother in two years, and it’s been at least that long since Robyn visited her parents overseas. So how better to fix that than a three-week excursion to Germany with a stop in New York? It was our first extended trip away from our new home since we moved in, our first long trip together, and her first holiday with my rather large and loud family. It would be a hoot.

After a red-eye flight from SeaTac, we landed at JFK Airport in New York, immediately buffeted by cold Northeast winter winds. It’s been years since I experienced that kind of cold that slices through layers of clothes and skin like tissue paper, and I realized in that moment that I’m not about that life anymore. Winter has never been my season, and after a decade of enjoying milder winters than I ever had in my youth, coming home in November was a stark reminder of what I had left behind. And as we waited for the shuttle to take us from the airport to the car rental agency, I thought to myself that I didn’t miss it.

After a little wait—it seems that Thanksgiving is a popular time to travel and rent cars—we were on the road to my brother’s place in South Jersey; a two-hour drive after a six-hour overnight flight. Robyn played DJ and navigator while I drove. That’s right, I drove. In New York. For the longest stretch I’ve ever done. And you know what? It was fine. Traffic was light for the most part, and we cruised effortlessly as we enjoyed views of the New York Harbor from the Verrazzano-Narrows Bridge.

Well, Robyn enjoyed. I was driving. No pictures of that.

After a couple of rounds of listening to the In the Heights movie soundtrack, we arrived at our hotel in Glassboro, NJ, a cute town that is home to Rowan University. It was the night before Thanksgiving, so it wasn’t a hub of activity. But there was a fantastic pizza place on the main drag, and I was glad for that. East coast pizza is superior, in case I have never made that opinion clear, and LaScala’s Fire had some of the best pizza I’ve had in recent memory.

We crashed pretty hard after our meal, and the next day we slept in and woke up hungry. A quick Google search led us to Angelo’s Diner, a throwback to a bygone era in every way imaginable. It was small, had a dining counter along with a few booths, and served old-fashioned comfort food. After that, we hung around the main square at the center of town, all decked out for Christmas. Then, we headed to the Main Event at my eldest brother’s home.

Dinner wouldn’t be for a few hours yet; my sister had yet to arrive with her daughter and my grandmother, and my other brother was still inbound. My mom was there, however, having arrived the previous night. It was great to see her. She walked a little slower and took a little longer to get up, but it was my mother, and she greeted me and Robyn warmly and lovingly. We played Scrabble, and later, Heads Up with my soon-to-be college graduate nephew and his very excitable sisters. It was fun and was the first time in a long while I’ve played against anyone other than Robyn. It showed. She beat us like we stole something.

My sister and niece then arrived with my grandmother in tow, still chugging after 102 years. I

had to remind myself that she was advanced in age when I went to hug her, and I’m always happy when the slight flicker of recognition goes off in her eyes. These people are family. She was quieter than I remembered her in my youth, and even though age has dulled the things that it normally does, she was still rather dignified.

Dinner was an intriguing affair highlighted by competing dishes of candied yams. The one my elder brother made was sweet and delectable and honestly should have been a dessert in its own right, where my eldest niece made one that was savory and better complemented a dinner. I decided to try and get the recipes for both.

Dinner ended and we lingered as much as we could. Family gatherings have been a casualty of the pandemic, and while no one said as much, we appreciated that we made up for time lost. Granted, it hadn’t been all that long since we saw each other last—five months, for the most part—but the last two years have taught me to cherish those moments because you never know when you can’t have them anymore. Eventually, though, we did have to go. We had a flight to catch on Black Friday.