Mom and I pay the toll and cross the bridge to Boca Grande, a seven-mile island off the Gulf Coast of Florida.
The first time I crossed this bridge with my mom, I was six months old. Our family returned every Thanksgiving after that. Except last year. Last year I moved to Canada for my husband’s job and we missed it.
Mom and I are here a week early so it’s just us. She’s recovering from surgery. They took a quarter-size chunk of melanoma from her cheek, and a bruised scar stretches from her eye to her chin.