Long before the internet, Yelp reviews, and social media, my mom would do intense research through AAA trip planners and through the Yellow Books Mom brought home from North Carolina. We typically stayed at the same places when we vacationed in NC, but occasionally, events would transpire where we had to pick a new accommodation.
Mom called and made reservations for the Snuggle Inn in Maggie Valley, just west of Asheville along the western border almost into Tennessee. We knew the location, and we anxiously anticipated our winter vacation by packing all our winter gear, hoping for snow on Christmas. Dad and I packed the tiny VW Rabbit, filling it to the roof inside with everything the four of us might need in a week’s time.
So much excitement filled the car. We spent our time on the trip singing songs, playing road games, and reading The Best Christmas Pageant Ever aloud. Kelly and I, I am sure, fought over space in the tiny back seat. I am sure Nancy Drew accompanied me, as I rarely went anywhere without her beside me in those days.
When we opened the front door of our small studio apartment, what awaited us was nothing close to the expectations. The bedroom with the full-sized bed Kelly and I would share was so small we had to walk sideways to get around the bed. The room was perhaps 1 foot bigger than the bed on all 3 sides. There was no dresser or closet. The bathroom was only a bit bigger than an airplane bathroom, and the living room proudly hosted the location of the pull-out sofa bed and the 4-person dining room table that wobbled so badly it took wads of napkins under a leg to make it steady enough to put our belongings on it. To open that sofa bed, the dining room table would have to be moved into the open kitchen area, making the kitchen unusable.
Worse yet, the heat had been on before we arrived, and yet, the room was so cold we could see our breath puffing out in dragon breaths before our faces. Kelly and I sat in our winter coats with a blanket over us, and when Mom and Dad surveyed the scene before them, they asked if we were going to make it—-and with chattering teeth, Kelly and I made all efforts to say yes. Laughing, we talked about where our suitcases would go—-and we realized it was too cold to shower in the little apartment, so we would store suitcases in the shower.
After about three hours, Mom and Dad made the executive decision that there had to be something better. We hopped in the car and drove down the road, checking with various hotels until we found a much better accommodation that was about 3 times as big and warm as could be. As we packed our VW Rabbit again and headed to the new place, we laughed about the Snuggle Inn where guests have to snuggle up to stay warm—or decide to smuggle out. Snuggle Inn provided giggles for years as we passed by.
* * * * * * * * * * *
No, it is not all that exciting of a story. It all turned out fine. No one was hurt, and I don’t believe we even lost any money in the situation. However, it taught me an important lesson about expectations.
Sometimes, as Robert Burns wrote, “The best laid schemes o' mice an' men / Gang aft a-gley”----or translated into an English we understand: “The best-laid schemes of mice and men oft go awry.” Mom had done nothing wrong with her planning. Life just happened.
As the year 2023 comes to a close, I can promise you that this year did not turn out as anticipated for me. It didn’t turn out as expected for many of my friends—for the friend who was attacked in the parking lot of his apartment complex and now has vision issues and PTSD, for a friend my age whose husband died last fall and whose mother died a few weeks ago, for the friend who left her abusive husband after 35 years, or for the friend who just got diagnosed with cancer.
Many of us have had a Snuggle Inn year. Big plans and dreams, big hopes and expectations, excitement and joy have all been switched out for wobbly tables and unlivable circumstances.
What happens when we are faced with a situation so different than the one expected or planned for? What happens if the expectations have fallen apart because of someone’s deliberate actions or inactions? What happens when those we count on fail to “show up” and fail to provide support? How do we live with unfulfilled expectations?
I don’t have all the answers, but Snuggle Inn taught me a few lessons, including:
- The best-laid plans do not always work out. Realizing this keeps me from blaming myself for not predicting the future. Life happens—and the outcome is not always fair.
- A friend of mine shared this line with me to explain how she deals with humans who don’t live up to expectations: “Expectations are premeditated resentments.” It doesn’t mean we can let people walk all over us or that we should have no expectations at all, but often, we expect more out of people than they ever offer to provide—-or more than they can provide.
- Pretending that the “Snuggle Inn” is the Ritz does not help anyone. It is not necessary to lie with chattering teeth and say that everything is great. It isn’t. Be honest with yourself. When the kids disappoint us or the doctor’s phone call is scary, it is okay to not be okay. When you are in a Snuggle Inn situation, one important key is to admit the truth to yourself.
- Staying in the “Snuggle Inns” of life if there are alternatives should not be the expectation either. If the job or the situation is toxic or unhealthy, “smuggle out.” (However, don’t expect everyone to understand why you are smuggling out. No one knows the reality better than you do.)
- The Snuggle Inns of life can teach us great lessons. Those moments provide us the fodder for great laughs later on (or sometimes much later on). OR if no laughs are available, they provide tales that then help others later on with their own Snuggle Inn situations.
May we all find ways to smuggle out of our 2023 Snuggle Inns and find a new adventure awaiting us. If you need someone to help you “smuggle out” or to at least share in the laughs or the tears, I am here.
Kim
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