Knights Inn Hell

Because our dorm move-in time was 9-12 on Saturday, we decided to stay about an hour outside of Chicago Friday night. If my car was going to be loaded down with all of Katie's worldly belongings, I was not leaving it in a downtown Chicago parking garage for easy pickings. So I found the Knights Inn on the internet, and diligently read all the reviews posted by guests. It sounded like an okay place to stay, and the price was less than half of a hotel in Chicago. As we pulled off I-55 and headed towards the large, not to be missed Knights Inn sign, I noticed a plethora of tractor trailer trucks parked near the gas station by the motel. Wait a minute...the gas station was the ENTRANCE to the motel. Hmmmm....I drove by the pumps and under the motel overhang, noticing a definite lack of any cars in the area, despite it being 6:30 on a Friday night. A sign on the motel entrance advised me to check in at the gas station.

As I took the car around the building, all I saw behind the motel in what appeared to be its parking lot were several derelict cars. Oh...and a boarded up window at the motel's entrance. Nice! The three of us looked at each other and decided that it might be better to try our luck with a downtown parking garage than the lot at the motel. I went into the gas station and told them I wanted to cancel our reservation. The woman behind the counter told me that they required 48 hours cancellation or we would be charged the room rate. At least I think that is what she was telling me. She was a little hard to understand. I explained that I didn't like the looks of the parking lot, and that the boarded up window reminded me of the broken down cars out back. She got a little insulted then - one of the cars out back was probably hers. Other guests were staying there, she said - they were just out at the moment. She then went and got one of the managers to talk to me, and he suggested that I take a key and at least go look at the room. They are under renovation, he said, and have just not repaired the window out front. So we looked at the room, which had granite counter tops in the bathroom yet oddly enough a piece torn out of the bathtub. I guess they just haven't repaired that yet, either. Anyway, we decided that since we could park the car right outside our window and keep an eye on it, we would go ahead and stay the night.

On the plus side the complex, and I use the term loosely, had a 24 hour restaurant and it was very good. We had great service and we all enjoyed our meals. When we walked back to the motel, not one additional car had been added to the parking lot. By the time we went to bed, two more cars were there, and by morning there may have been 8 cars in the lot. Some of them we heard arriving in the wee hours of the morning, having attended the racetrack in the area. Around 6:30 in the morning we awoke to room doors slamming and little kids running up and down the halls. The smell of cigarettes permeated the air, even though we were on the non-smoking side of the hall. We definitely did not spend a good Knight at the Inn.

Memories

Katie's graduation quilt is finished and waiting to be packed into the car tomorrow, along with all the other necessities of beginning a new life away from the only home she has ever known. The past few days have been filled with her doing laundry, finally taking the time to discard shoes and clothing that are too worn or too small or too unworthy of competing on a college campus.

Last night we went to see Katie's old babysitter, the woman who watched her from six weeks to six years of age. Judy has remained a treasured friend of the family, one who also cannot believe her "baby" is heading off to college. The evening was spent reminiscing, with "Do you remember..." and "Whatever happened to..." filling the air. We laughed as Judy recalled the story of laying a sleeping Katie on the entry foyer rug as she went down in the basement to switch the laundry around. The diaper man rang the doorbell, and while Judy didn't hear him in the basement, Katie woke up and began to crawl around. An alarmed diaper man called the police, thinking the baby had been left home alone. The stories, I think, will warm Katie's heart as the quilt warms her body in the cold Chicago winter.

Tomorrow we'll take our youngest off to the "big city", and we'll return on Sunday to a house filled only with the memories of the laughter and tears of our children. It's a bittersweet feeling, knowing that we have done our part as parents to raise our kids to be confident, self-assured young adults ready to tackle the world, flying from the nest to conquer whatever the world throws at them. Yet having been defined ourselves as "parents" for the past 24 years, it will seem odd not to be in that role on a daily basis. But just as we have enjoyed the new experience of seeing our son as a married adult, and thus gaining a new daughter, I think this time of going back to being just a couple will offer up opportunities for us to explore what roads we wish to travel next.

Oh, Say Can You See...

Not too well, actually. I had my annual eye exam today, and was due for having the eyes dilated. I don't mind the process, but I sure hate driving afterward. If only I could guarantee a cloudy eye doctor day. The last time my eyes were dilated, it was bright and sunny out, and I admit that driving home was a challenge. Despite the reverse drops that had been put in my eyes, the light outdoors nearly blinded me. I can't believe they think it is okay for people to drive that way. This year I took my sister with me to the appointment. She was going to drive us in her car, but when we left my house, her car refused to start. So I drove our smaller car to the appointment, knowing it was more the size she would be comfortable driving. It was nice to have Kathy's company for the fifty minutes I had to wait before being taken to an exam room.

The exam went fine, and I was handed the What Not to Wear roll up sunglasses for the trip home. Placing them under my own sunglasses, I was a sight to behold on the way out. I should point out that I am not a very good passenger under normal conditions. I usually am the driver wherever I go as other people's driving (including my sister's) bugs me. Add into the equation that I felt like I was looking through Vaseline and my sister was driving our car, and I was a nervous wreck. I finally leaned back and closed my eyes for the duration of the trip. Even now, four hours after the dilation, my eyes still look like a cartoon characters. Thank goodness this only happens once a year.