If you honor your father and mother, “things will go well for you, and you will have a long life on the earth.” Ephesians 6:3
Last week was Spring Break in Indiana and my oldest son Connor and I set off for the deep south on a road trip with my parents. Road trips have long been a part of my family. Growing up in Indiana, with my whole family still in Chicago, meant frequent trips back to the Windy City for visits. I am the oldest of three siblings. My brother and sister fought, so that meant that I had to sit in the middle, on the hump (you remember the hump, don’t you?), for three long hours back to Chicago every time we visited my aunts, uncles, cousins, and grandparents. My sister sat behind my dad who was at the wheel and would systematically kick under his seat until he “had enough” and would reach back to give her a pinch. She was agile and with cat-like reflexes would dart out-of-the-way and I would get the pinch. Ouch!
As we got older and the five-passenger car wasn’t big enough, we would rent minivans for trips that we would take. We called these “Happy Van trips.” As an avid reader, I always got to sit in the way back so I could have my nose in a book and no need to converse with anyone else in the car. I missed a lot of scenery including all of the Pacific Coast Highway, the Smoky Mountains and various other landmarks in America’s heartland.
I adore my parents and I missed out on growing up with grandparents in the same state (remember the trips to Chicago?) and I wished so desperately to have grandparents that were close to home. As an adult, I had a say in that with my own children. My neighborhood connects to my parents neighborhood so that my kids would be able to interact with them as part of their daily lives. I consider us extremely fortunate that proximity allows us to plan lunches, dinners, school plays, random coffee dates, and vacations together. Last week, with my husband working and my other two boys with their dad, my parents and I got Connor to ourselves for a week of fun-ish. I remember the first road trip my parents took with Connor and me when he was very young. Connor and my dad came out of a rest stop area and had decided that there were “rules” to road trips. Rule #1 was “No smoking in the bathrooms.” None of us smoke, I don’t know why this is Rule #1…but it is. Any of my children could tell you Rule #1. As we set off on our journey last week, my dad got in the car and asked Connor what the first rule of a road trip was…and sure enough, Connor told my dad “No smoking in the bathroom.” Despite a rocky trip (see Being Bratty post) there were several highlights and lots of laughing and memory making. As we all get older and time marches on, I’m so grateful for an opportunity for us to all get-together. I realize that it’s a precious gift and I am thankful.