Like many southern towns, Ripley is anchored by the county courthouse, surrounded by a square with shops and offices. We were amused that the lawns were peopled by goblins and ghosts for Halloween.

Before leaving town, we went to the cemetery. I think Beth’s shadow is on the stone for my parents, and Bob’s is on Grandmother and Granddaddy’s. Grandparents were 89 and 85 when they died, so the stats favor us to live a few more years.

Bob posed with the stones for Mamaw (mother’s mother) and Uncle Bill. She lived till she was 88 or 89, long out-living her husband who died of a burst gall bladder when Mom was 4 years old.

The last gravestone we visited was in Middle Tennessee – a military cemetery where Beth’s first husband was buried.

We stopped to stretch our legs at David’s rest stop. I call it that because on our first trip with our grandson, we stopped here, and 3-year-old David rolled down the steep hill several times, laughing all the way. I’ll show you the art – something that looks like a sail surrounded by markers for each county. I was standing near our county, and Bob was probably among the middle Tennessee markers.

Catfish is a big thing in Tennessee, and we ate heaping plates of it the last night on the road. I hope I asked Bob and Beth how they slept after it. That meal could have caused major indigestion and heartburn. If I had either, I slept right through it.

The final driving day was glorious, with fall colors at the peak of the season. We couldn’t have asked for better weather or colors of leaves. Being with favorite people is such a joy, and I reveled in every moment.