Mom Bought an RV?!
I freaked upon learning that, at 82, she bought an expensive motorhome on a whim, but it became a precious purchase for both of us
"What do you mean you bought a motorhome?" I asked. I knew my 82-year-old mom was going to the Tampa RV show, but I thought it was just a fun thing to do on a Friday night.
After her third husband passed away nine months earlier, she went through a phase of unwanted freedom — no need to rush home after her volunteer shift at the thrift store to take care of her ailing spouse. No need to carve out hours each week to take him to doctor appointments.
My mom would call me in Chicago around 5 p.m. at the end of my workday because that's when she'd get lonely. She mentioned a daydream of jumping behind an RV wheel and seeing sights around the country now that she had no one to take care of at home. I'd play along, but each time I was convinced I had talked her out of it.
I Thought It Was a Dream, Until It Wasn't
She knew nothing about RVs — had never driven or camped in one before — wasn't mechanically inclined, was on a fixed income and in my opinion, at her age, should not be driving around the country alone in one.
So, when she sent me pictures that Friday evening of a Jayco Redhawk and the interior bench table that could fold down to a bed, I played along, texting back that it was cute and looked fun.
"Mike, the nice salesman, said this one would be perfect for me,"
But when her sister called asking what I thought about my mom buying an RV, I freaked.
"Mom!" I spouted. "You bought the RV?"
"Yep, isn't it exciting?" she replied. "Mike, the nice salesman, said this one would be perfect for me — it's easy to drive and hook up at the campground."
I Overreact to the News
"Ok, don't worry Mom, I'm sure there's a three-day cancelation clause," I rambled, my mind instantly going into remedy mode as if she were one of my kids with a problem I had to fix. "Send me the contract and I'll call him tomorrow."
"Oh. You don't think I should have an RV?" She sounded so deflated.
Her tone went from optimism and excitement to shame and embarrassment. I instantly realized my mistake and that old feeling of never wanting to disappoint my mom appeared.
She still went to dance classes three times a week, ushered at two theaters each month, and was active in her church. Her friends were cheering her on and my siblings didn't seem concerned, so was I overreacting about the potential physical and financial threats?
Let's Give It a Try
"You know what, you're right Mom," I told her the next day after discussing with my husband whether we'd be comfortable supporting her ambitious dream. "This will be exciting. Let's go on this new journey together."
She was thrilled. The gloom of the previous year had dissipated. She seemed giddy with possibilities of all the adventures she would have in Whimsey — the name she gave her camper because she bought it on a whim.
"She seemed giddy with possibilities of all the adventures she would have in Whimsey — the name she gave her camper because she bought it on a whim."
My husband and I flew to Florida, and we drove with my mom to the Jayco dealership. We walked with her around the camper as the technician recited a 30-minute introduction to "everything you need to know" about owning a 24-foot Class C motorhome, and then he handed her the keys.
She got behind the wheel and started the engine. At 4 feet 9 inches tall, she sat on a cushion to see over the steering wheel and practically had to stand up and put all her weight into turning the ignition key. My husband sat in the passenger seat, and I buckled myself in the bench seat at the table and said a little prayer. She put it in drive, and we slowly pulled off the lot and onto the highway on her inaugural trip to Disney World's Fort Wilderness Campground.
Handles Like Her Old Pickup
She had no problem handling the RV. The Ford dashboard and van-like chassis reminded her of driving the pickup truck on her Wisconsin farm 20 years earlier.
We got to our campsite, and everything was exciting and new — checking in for the first time, hooking up the electric and water lines, operating the slide out to extend the bedroom. She made notes on her checklist so she'd remember the sequence of setting up next time.
I was so proud of her and happy I could make this dream come true for her. As long as I can remember, I felt I had to protect my mother, so in an unresolved childhood dysfunctional way, I felt very accomplished. To celebrate this momentous day, we whooped it up at Disney's Hoop-Dee-Doo Musical Revue.
Piling Up the Mileage
Over the next five years, Whimsey put on over 40,000 miles driving from Florida to Chicago to Montana to Oklahoma, and many stops in between. My mom collected patches of her destinations and attached them to a valance over the table window and stuck souvenir magnets on the stove fan hood.
She made excuses to visit friends and family members so she and Whimsey could go on another adventure — a friend in Indiana, a cousin in Iowa, our summer cabin in Wisconsin.
When my son scratched his cornea during a trip to New Orleans, Whimsey became an emergency vehicle. I administered his eye drops every 30 minutes while my mom and husband alternated driving the 13 hours back to Chicago.
Whimsey became her companion. In between trips, my mom would drive to the causeway by her home, have a cup of coffee and read her magazines under the RV awning. Occasionally, she would drive Whimsey to her shift at the thrift store just to get her motor running and tires rolling. When a hurricane was forecasted for her town, she and Whimsey headed for safety.
Inevitable Misfortunes
There were a few mishaps. In Montana, Whimsey collided with a deer. And in Georgia, a tire blew. My mom got Whimsey safely to the shoulder but then got too close to a guard rail and the passenger side of the RV peeled back like a can of sardines. Physically, everyone was fine — except Whimsey and the deer — just emotionally shaken.
One trip my mom and I had longed to do for years was to drive around Lake Michigan, but one thing after another kept delaying the trip — one year it was the pandemic, another was soaring gas prices and the following year Whimsey was in the repair shop.
Finally, in 2023, we took seven days and drove around the southern tip of Lake Michigan in Indiana, up the scenic Michigan coast, over the Upper Peninsula, and down through Door County in Wisconsin.
Looping Around the Lake
Our journey took us through the tourist towns of Saugatuck, Grand Haven and Traverse City where we shopped in the cute gift stores, ate butter pecan ice cream and drank Chardonnay at picturesque restaurants by the lake.
Back inside Whimsey, she popped in a Barbra Streisand CD and belted out her favorite songs while doing the speed limit on Highway M-22.
We took a carriage ride around Mackinac Island and sat on the wall of the Grand Hotel. My mom reminisced about how she brought my siblings and I there as children but was only able to afford grilled cheese sandwiches.
Now at 87, my mom still has no problem driving Whimsey, but the arthritis in her hands makes it difficult to tighten the hoses when she arrives at the campsite, and she gets tired more quickly.
Next Generation of RVers
This summer, Whimsey will go on her last adventure with us. My mother said she can be done driving a motorhome, but not done traveling. She is gifting the RV to my husband and me so we can trade her in for a bigger, 37-foot Class A motorhome.
My husband and I will now be the drivers and she'll be our passenger. I'm sure we'll shed a tear while we ceremoniously remove the Whimsey decal and lay it to rest.
The years that I've traveled with my mom and Whimsey have been precious. Her impulsive act at the RV show turned out to be a priceless gift that I'll treasure forever.
