My true story starts several years ago. My mother and i used to go out together on Wednesdays. I say used to because, for one she is no longer with us and two because of my story i am about to tell. This Wednesday that we traveled was a warm ,sunny, Ohio summer day. we were to go get propane for the grill so my father could make his famous streak. If you have ever had Tri tip at my house you know how good that is. This day her and i drive down to Valley street like how we always do and end up turning the wrong way. We were so lost! I told her we had turned the wrong direction and that we weren’t any where near where we needed to be. A little later we finally came upon it and got our Propane. Silly right? that’s no to bad of a story.
“Manda why did you and your mom stop just because of that?” You ask? Well a month later her and I were running another errand and had to drive down this curvy road toward Vandalia. No we didn’t get lost but on out way back on the curviest part of this road the tire on our ’95 Buick Regal blew up! So here we are on a Wednesday in the road changing to the spare tire on our car. Then that winter we where driving in our ’71 Chevy pick up and the roads where icy and snowy. On our way to the speedway down the street from our house the truck flew into a tail spin whipped us around and crushed us into the curb, luckily missing two cars. Broke the bead on the front tire. SO here we are again out side, this time in the cold, changing another tire. After that day up until the day she passed when ever we traveled together and it happened to be a Wednesday we were not to acknowledge it to each other and we were on the extreme look out for anything in the road or where we were going.