This is long – If you want to skip to the best part, and save the read, scroll down
This was the first ever trip for just me and my sons. I’ve traveled with each of them individually and all of us as a family, but not just me and them. This trip was not only for them to spend some time together, but also for us to pay tribute to my baby brother and deliver his remains to their final destination.
The first day of our trip, right after we landed, I took my boys to one of the houses I lived in as a kid in Worcester, Mass, about an hour from Boston. My mom called it ‘the iron house’ (for its shape I guess).
It is on Lake Quinsigamond. The lake is 4 miles long and is situated between Worcester and Shrewsbury, where, other than the Cape briefly, we lived for the first decade of my life. This house is split into multiple apartments, and we were on the bottom left. At that time it was me, Adam, Jon and Mom. I remember fishing and skating (playing hockey) on that lake with my brothers and even though I hadn’t been there in 30 years, I drove right up to it like it had been yesterday.
Around second grade, we left the iron house, we moved into my grandparent’s basement in Shrewsbury, a much nicer town, but we really didn’t know the difference when we were little. I took Justin there, to ‘the brown house’ (we moved a lot and named our houses) the last time we were up there a year ago.
After taking pictures of the house and telling the boys stories for a couple minutes, I got a text from dad that he was at Shrewsbury pizzeria, a legacy place from our childhood, and we zoomed over there to eat calzones and gyros.
After we ate we went to Mountain View Cemetery in Shrewsbury, to find the gravesite of my Grampa and Grama Holbrook. Buddy’s ashes were spread there too and after speaking to my mom, we decided Jon belonged with them. It was me, dad, Will and Justin. It took us a little bit of time to find the headstone, but we finally did with the help of a kind man that worked for the town (who had to radio it in because the plot map Will found online didn’t correspond with the markers). Dad said a few words and I cried a little with the overwhelming notion that I was in the place that marked some of the most cherished people in my life that were all gone.
Once that was settled, I felt very peaceful, and we headed to visit [one of] my 98 year old grandmothers (I have two of them actually) in Longmeadow. She was so pleased to see the boys and they both enjoyed seeing her as well. She is still as sharp as a tack. She tells stories with great detail. There we were, about to head into 2020 and my grama can tell stories about the roaring 20s, and then the depression and how they made it!
I could write a whole piece about her and the stories, to include how she was ‘taken’ at the age of 16, to train to be an RN to care for soldiers, doing 12 hours shifts, but Justin is actually writing it up, and he is a remarkable writer, so I’ll let him do it then share when he is done.
Off we went to the hotel to rest up and split a bottle of red with dad, then wake up early to head to VT to ski.
Sparing you all the details, trust me when I tell you a logistical folly on my part lead to not a terrible first day and night in VT, but it just didn’t go as well as it could have if that funny little thing called hindsight would lend itself in advanced sometimes. I guess it does in the form of instincts, but I digress.
Don’t get me wrong, Okemo is great and so is Killington, it just stinks when you have a room at one place and lift passes at the other and they’re an hour away from each other 😛 *Although I did enjoy the picturesque drive!!
Day two and the rest of the time up there was mostly awesome in a two story, two bedroom condo with fireplace, jacuzzi, deck, etc and it was literally across the street from the best lodge they have at Mt Snow. The homeowners left us a bottle of wine, some beer and a packed fridge. The food at the lodge was amazeballs – and the summit was gorgeous.
Unfortunately Will busted his tailbone on his last swipe first day and ended up cutting out early. I felt my heart crack a little, the way only kids can do to you, but I’ll focus on the one drink we grabbed together and him saying , “Thanks for working hard to give us a good life.”
Consequently, I was made to ski with Justin and lets just say, I am the worst down hill skier alive and I do not like it. He was very patient with me, giving me instructions but I finally made him just leave me and it took me so long to ‘pizza’ and side-step it down, he went up and back twice before I finished. I wanted to take off the skis and walk to the lift but he said, “All my life you have been the bravest person in every situation, and you wouldn’t let me give up if I tried, so don’t give up” and with that in mind, I kept the skis on until I got back to the lodge – SLOWLY.
We had plenty of snow and ice non-stop for the rest of the trip and had we not had the beast 4X4, we would have been screwed (I had to shift down to 4-low a few times to get out of spots). We lost power for a bit and I actually very much enjoyed de-icing the beast (yay for spatulas when you don’t have an ice-scraper) and I liked going out back to the shed for stacks of wood.
I’ll take a week of ice and snow in the mountains over a week of sunshine and heat at a beach 1,000 times over.
I missed my husband (and dog) quite a bit – and then William after he left – but I was at peace, completely chilled there the entire time and I loved it.
We said farewell to Mt Snow and the slopes and I enjoyed the drive back to Boston while Jnr slept. The scenery of frozen rivers, people ice-fishing on lakes, little covered bridges and moose-crossing signs reminded me of a combo of Gilmore Girls and Stephen King – haha – two things I love!
The Best Part:
I should first tell you that all of this part happens with someone wearing no shoes (because they left them in the ski lodge in VT) – so was literally walking around Boston in just socks….
Our final adventure before tucking into hotel before our early flight home, was to go to Fenway to spread the remainder of Jon’s ashes.
As we got closer and closer, Justin kept insisting he was going to go inside and get his ashes to home plate. I asserted that it would be impossible and we could just let them fly outside and he’d become part of the building. Justin wasn’t giving up.
I said, “We are out of time, we have to get the rental back.” He didn’t budge, he was clutching the ashes container.
He said, “Let me out here and circle around.”
I said, “OK fine, but you will absolutely NOT breach any barriers or disobey any posted signs. There are cameras everywhere and we are not criminals.”
He said, “OK, I got it.”
For the record, I am not saying who did or did not do anything. But someone may have found a door that was not just unlocked, it was WEDGED OPEN. Obviously a person who works there did it temporarily for a reason? It was perhaps the door to a service entry to a restaurant that is in the park and still operates off season but can be entered from outside or inside the park.
Nothing posted anywhere said Do Not Enter. However, turns out, even if you are allowed to enter a place that’s open to the public (such as a store or park), you can still be convicted of criminal trespass if you stay after the space closes or fail to leave after you’re ordered to do so.
Anyways, if someone possibly walked right in and started walking around., then they would have found that most doorways into the actual playing field area were boarded up. But there was one, with just plastic, not sealed, so, you can walk right through it and disturb nothing.
Then you can walk all the way down the stands to the dugout, jump in, and walk to home plate, and spread the ashes then leave.
How perfect would that be if it had happened?!
So definitely Jon is with my grandparents in their final resting place, and I will neither confirm nor deny, but maybe, he is also inside Fenway, intertwined forever with that famous red dirt (that people pay money to touch and buy souvenir bottles of) inside the oldest existing stadium in this nation.
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And so – there is a special reserved place in each of our hearts set aside uniquely for each person we love. Its not interchangeable and once you love someone, only they can fill that space, and when they are gone, the void is always there.
We did lots on this trip but this trip was for you brother. I wish I could call you whenever I want. I really want to talk to you about the Eminem vs Nick Cannon feud. I want to talk to you about the NFL playoffs. And I want to go to a concert with you and wish that I had in recent years, like we always said we would.
I don’t guess I’ll ever stop crying completely, and that’s ok. I’m good. You’re good. Goodbye. I love you little bro.
I am going to watch the games a little different for now on either way!
I love this and I love you mom