When I was planning this trip to northern Florida, it occurred to me that I wouldn’t be too far from the ancestral home of my mother’s side of the family, and their last hurrah in Green Cove Springs. (That town name took up lots of trace when addressing an envelope so I will call it GCS from now on.) It was, in the middle of the 20th century, when I used to visit Saintly Aunt Belle and all the Canovas, a quaint small town centered around a sulphur spring and a grand bath house for taking in the waters, which then flowed into the St. John’s River, which famously flows north.
I had not been back since December 1984, at my mom’s funeral. Let’s just say that was an episode my dad, brother, and I wanted to put far behind us as we raced away vowing to “never see those g-d people again” to paraphrase Dad. Since all “those people” are dead, and the neighborhood is a Walgreens, I felt it was safe to return. I brought Vicki so she could beat away any ghosts with her cane.
We stopped for lunch in scenic Palatka, which still resembles Palatka but with some new stores. We ate at Florida’s oldest diner (apparently only since an older diner closed). Angel’s Dining car is in a real old dining car and has lots of milkshakes. We ate other food, however, and and I especially liked the sweet potato fries.
As we drove to GCS, I needed to stop to do a meeting with my boss (I took off most of the day). As I slowed down to turn into a driveway, we passed two Highway Patrol cars that had pulled someone over. The next thing I knew, we were being pulled over. I was confused. It turns out that I should have jumped into the left lane when we passed them.
I was all perky and nice, so I accepted my warning and promised to do better. As Mr. Trooper headed back to his car, a red truck went by in our lane. He got immediately pulled over! I guess there’s an information campaign going on about slowing down AND getting in the left lane, which I would have done if I wasn’t trying to turn right. Lesson learned.
While much of the area near GCS looks unfamiliar, the cemetery looks the same. In fact, I drove straight to the right plot where all those Canovas and their spouses are interred. Then I got confused because there were pinwheels all around, so I drove around a bit. Mom’s headstone had a pinwheel thing next to it. Perhaps my estranged sister put it there before she moved to Texas. If so, that’s an old pinwheel.
I told Mom, who is not there, of course, that I miss her but am fine. By the way, Mom was not Catholic; the person who arranged for her funeral and headstone was, though. See why we left? Anyway, here are some of my other dead relatives’ markers.
We looked around a bit more, identified some plants, and went to Spring Park, very near the Walgreens where the crazy Canova children grew up (actually that house was one street over and now has a funeral home on it).
The Spring Park has been made very nice, which pleased me. The bath house is gone, but there’s a grand city hall across the street. The refurbished spring-fed pool is lovely.
My happiest moment came when I saw that the outflow into the river was just as it once was. Crystal clear water briskly flowing into the river, full of fish and water plants.
The river area is not all built up, which pleased me. The only birds were Boat-tailed Grackles, but they were entertaining enough. We did see a Roseate Spoonbill on the way back, so all was well.
We made it back to the condo through some bad rain, which they need here, too. After a rest, Vicki and I ate so-so Italian food. She was a trooper today. I’m not gonna force her on my marathon of parks tomorrow, though. That will be solo.
It was good to have someone with me today. I didn’t know how I’d take visiting the source of childhood negativity again. But mostly I remembered how my father took care of me when relatives were snippy, and how kind the compassionate family members were to our nuclear family. I’ve done the work and came out healthier! Whoop!
The Hermits' Rest 