Excerpt of Something To Write Home About by Janis F. Kearney

I wouldn’t stop the car, risk changing my mind. The decision
had been too difficult, too painful. I turned away from the
rearview mirror, imagining Daddy growing older. I wished for
more resolve; to erase the small beads of doubt. This
journey was necessary, predestined. Wasn’t that what Daddy
had taught us, about dreams, about impossibilities, about
preparing ourselves for miracles? Yet. I was giving up so
much…would miss so much about our Sundays on Varner Road;
The Sunday School visits, where Daddy was still
superintendent – after more than 50 years; and the warm and
friendly hugs from those who remembered "Faye," growing up
there. "My goodness, if you aren’t the spittin’ image of
Miss Ethel!"

I’d miss the cool, spicy fragrance of Aqua Velva that Daddy
had fallen in love with in 1965. His nine-year old son,
Jerome, had bought it at Fish’s Grocery Store, wrapped it
with care, and delivered it proudly, on Christmas morning.
Since then; the smoothly rounded blue bottle had never
disappeared from my father’s bathroom cabinet.

I’d miss the sweet, buttery aroma of Daddy’s yeast rolls
that sometimes met me at the door – informing me that
Daddy’s morning had been one full of reminisces of his life
with Mama. Those days ended either in living room naps, or
passionate discussions about politics – no more one-sided
lectures once I was old enough for my own opinions.

It was the 90-minute drive to Route 1, Varner Road; though,
that I would miss most. Going home to the place of my past,
and where the Kearney family still gathered. Daddy’s
blessings had been a prerequisite for my journey. Yet, my
heart broke to see that his eyes held more than blessings,
something sadder than pride. For the first time, I regretted
the 90 minute drive that would allow me to remember all that
I would miss…all that I would lose, in this journey to
Washington, D.C. and the White House.