Both sides of my family are from Springfield, Missouri, and when I was growing up, we went back for visits a couple times a year. We always stayed at my maternal grandmother’s house, the six of us sleeping in one big room upstairs. There was a children’s table where small presents awaited our arrival. A screened porch with cushioned wicker furniture. Shelves that held our toys and books. A croquet set in the garage. Four-foot light up carolers on the porch at Christmas. And a grandmother and great aunt who doted on us.
Grandpa’s barbecue pit.
My mother was an only child, but my father was from a large family, most of which still lived in town, and our visits were always met with fanfare. Grandpa’s chicken barbecues in the summer, backyard fireworks, trips to the lake or my great uncle’s farm. In the winter, big family dinners and tree trimming.
For a kid whose family moved a lot, I found a lot of comfort in the steadfast sameness of Springfield and all the memories it held. My dad must have felt the same, because after his second wife died ten years ago, he moved back, after 50 years of being away.
I still step back into nostalgia when I return to Springfield. So many of my extended family has passed on now, but we got visits from several cousins and an aunt while we were there. And I love driving around this vaguely familiar city and seeing what’s still the same. My maternal grandmother’s house has barely changed. The old Meyer Mill founded by my paternal great grandfather still stands vacant. My paternal grandparents’ house is tidy and fresh. I loved touring around with my Dad who remembers all the details still.
Mini Mayberry
A neighbor passes out biscuits.
My 86-year-old dad lives alone in a cul-de-sac of duplex apartments that is like a mini-Mayberry. Neighbors share newspapers, water each other’s plants, drop by with food, and generally look out for each other. Dad’s golden retriever, Annie, wanders around freely, greeting people when they return home and knocking on doors for biscuits. And every day around 5:00, a standard set of neighbors drops by for Happy Hour.
Dad had to stop drinking all together last month, for health reasons. So his drink of choice is iced tea now. But Happy Hour is a lot more than an excuse to drink. It’s Dad’s main connection to others, and we found ourselves drawn right in. His neighbors are an interesting bunch, and they genuinely care about each other. Their community on Hickory Lane is one to be envied. They go out for meals together, go shopping, share holidays… And every one of his friends there took me aside and offered to help out with rides and food or whatever was needed once we left.
Dad’s Heart
Dad’s always been young for his age and in good shape, but this last year he’s had less and less energy. His doctor determined that his heart valve is malfunctioning and needs to be replaced. Our visit was well-timed to allow me to accompany him to some doctors’ appointments and tests, and we’d hoped to stay through till after the surgery. But when tests revealed arterial blockage, a stint is required first. It will likely be August before his surgery.
Reliable RV
We had called ahead and made an appointment with Reliable RV in Springfield to take care of all the repairs Camping World didn’t do. As it turns out, they are just down the road from Dad’s place, and they have small lot with hookups that they agreed to let us stay in. We arrived on Friday, June 12th, and our experience was the exact opposite of our previous repair place. Our service tech, Jason, was friendly and unrushed, going through every little complaint we had. On both Monday and Tuesday, we dropped Bessie off at the garage, and at the end of both days, Jason delivered Bessie back to our spot, plugged her in, put out the slides, and turned on the air conditioning.
Watching fireflies in our parking lot.
This was a far cry from Camping World in Katy, Texas, where everyone I dealt with was rude and work-avoidant. They made me sign something right off saying I wouldn’t hold them responsible for any thefts, damage, or spoiled food. Then I swear they turned off the coach battery to spite me so that all our food in the fridge went bad. And after two days, they didn’t fix ANY of the issues I’d asked them to.
When it looked like we’d be in Springfield for a while, I told Jason to go ahead and order a window that needed to be replaced. And even though we were the only people actually camping in the lot, people there seemed perfectly happy to let us stay there the whole time. The lot is between the freeway and railroad tracks, so it’s not exactly parklike, but we were on the far end of the lot, on the edge of a grassy culvert where we watched giant groundhogs forage during the day and lightning bugs twinkle at night. It’s basic, but it suited our needs perfectly, especially since we spent most of our time at Dad’s.
When the window came in, it had been damaged in shipping. They would have to order another one. Jason hated to break the news to us, but as it turns out, it’s a good thing. It gives us a reason to park there again when we come back through.
Bad Tooth
I had really hoped that the new crown I had installed in Texas was going to be the end of my toothache troubles. The crown seemed to fit quite well, and I knew it would be tender for a while, but when we got to Springfield, I started showing signs of infection again. Swollen jaw, neck ache, sore throat, hard to swallow. I dreaded starting with another new dentist again, but it had to be done.
Puffy-cheeked but relieved after tooth extraction.
One of Dad’s neighbors referred me to her dentist who got me in the same day. An x-ray revealed infection, but he was convinced it was the second tooth in. He sent me to an endodontist, who determined it was, in fact, the newly crowned tooth. (Thank god I didn’t let the first guy pull the wrong tooth.)
The endodontist said there was no way around pulling the tooth. After four infections, there was clearly a crack that couldn’t be seen on the x-ray. He suggested a bone graft as well, for a future implant, all for another $2,000. I’ve spent enough money on this damn tooth, so I opted for a simple yank and one more round of antibiotics. I will live without my far back tooth.
Once it was out, there was no visible crack, but he said the infection had eaten away the bone all around the tooth. It would have fallen out eventually.
So far, so good. I’m still on the antibiotics, but the symptoms are 90% gone, and I’m getting used to the empty spot.
Goodbye for Now
When Dad’s surgery got postponed several weeks, we decided to hit the road and head north. We’ll swing back around for the surgery, and to get the RV window replaced.
Dad and me.
We got into quite a comfortable routine, staying in Springfield. And I really enjoyed spending the time with my dad. It was a little hard to say goodbye, and Bailey and Annie didn’t like it one bit. When we pulled Bessie up to Dad’s carport and told Bailey to load up, she lay down on the drive and put her head down. Annie, however, tried to jump right in. It’s a good thing we’ll be back in just a few weeks.