Patricia Yarberry Allen, M.D. is a Gynecologist, Director of the New York Menopause Center, Clinical Assistant Professor of Obstetrics and Gynecology at Weill Cornell Medical College, and Assistant Attending Obstetrician and Gynecologist at New York-Presbyterian Hospital. She is a board certified fellow of the American College of Obstetrics and Gynecology. Dr. Allen is also a member of the Faculty Advisory Board and the Women’s Health Director of The Weill Cornell Community Clinic (WCCC). Dr. Allen was the recipient of the 2014 American Medical Women’s Association Presidential Award.

by Patricia Yarberry Allen, MD | bio

The husband and I were childless this Christmas. Our grown-up children were with in-laws and ex-laws. We could do what we wanted when we wanted. No over eating. No over gifting.

We began our holiday with a 19-hour road trip, traveling from New York City to southern Florida. Our trip started at 1:15 a.m., after my birthday party. The car was packed early on the morning of Dec. 20, so all we had to do was change from party clothes to comfort clothes, grab the picnic and the dog, and get on the road.

We are aware, he and I, that we are lucky to be mated to another person mad enough to look forward to this 1,300-mile drive. We share a love of road trips and the sense of adventure that comes from no advance planning.

Our daily lives are so tightly controlled by the needs of others and demands of work schedules that a holiday offers us the opportunity to throw ourselves gently into the arms of fate. No books on tape, no special CDs; just the intimacy of the car ride and time enough for conversations without end, catching up before the year’s end.

Hours and hours down I-95 with no traffic during those pre-dawn hours, then we finally stopped in Virginia for hot coffee and breakfast. The food was the food of my childhood: ham and eggs, grits and gravy. The cadence of speech and sweetness of manner were so comforting.

For a moment in time, I chose to remember only the romance of this mid-southern area that stretches from the Atlantic to the Mississippi. It is still a place where people are courteous by nature and feel that it would be rude to act rushed. Asta, our airedale, had his first ham and grits and will never be the same.

Virginia is such a long state when you’re heading south. This stretch of I-95 was filled with lots of Christmas shoppers and the infamous Virginia State Police, with whom I have had personal interactions that left both my heavy foot and my wallet much lighter.

I am always happy to cross the state line into the Tarheel state. I love the North Carolina accent, so slow in tempo and gentle in tone. Shortly before we entered South Carolina, we stopped for barbecue, hush puppies and real ice tea. Hush puppies, for those of you unfortunate enough to have never attended a July fish fry in the south, are delicate deep-fried cornmeal breads that are spherical in shape and melt in the mouth.

South Carolina was uneventful as usual. I have a former spouse in Savannah, so, understandably, I am always slightly curious as we pass by this small Georgia city on the interstate. What do they do there, I wonder? Is everything covered in draped gothic moss hanging from the trees?

Many hours of driving and not much sleep the day before began to take its toll. Suddenly, the devil-may-care duo who preferred no advance planning found themselves in northern Florida in need of shelter and an emergency nap. It took several telephone calls to locate an inn that had room for us and Asta. We planned to sleep for a few hours and then finish our trip. Ten hours later, we woke up with dry mouths and sore muscles. We showered and got back on the road, eager to complete the rest of the journey.

We love the feeling of entering the peaceful equestrian community in southern Florida where we have had a vacation home for many years. It has become our real home in so many ways. We have been somewhat nomadic in our marital life, moving out of the city to Connecticut and from Connecticut to Pound Ridge, N.Y., where we now live. During all these moves, we had the constancy of home and a place for fun, recovery and relaxation in our Florida home. So many holiday times with family and friends have been spent here. This house is filled with wonderful memories.

The long drive is always worth it. At least one way.