"Travel is like life in this, at least,
that a genial companion divides the troubles
and doubles the joys."
-- Percival Lowell, Atlantic Monthly (Jan. 1891)
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| "Life" game cars and drivers 6-22-14 |
"And it came to me then. That we were wonderful traveling companions ... "
-- Haruki Murakami, Sputnik Sweetheart
I took a road trip to Michigan for my nephew's 11th birthday party yesterday.
It was only a couple of hours' drive, but I didn't feel like making it alone. My husband and Leo had stuff going on, but Sam said he'd tag along if I would drive so that he could ride shotgun and do homework for the summer classes he's taking.
So with our travel mugs brimming with fresh hot coffee, we ventured forth, just we two.
It was a brilliant June day, so we rolled down the windows and opened the sun roof on my little VW Rabbit. I kept the radio to a low murmur so Sam could write his paper. We chatted briefly off and on, now and then, about nothing in particular. We argued with the GPS for taking us on the jankiest route possible. He handed me tissues when I dribbled coffee down my chin.
After the party, which was very nice, we did it all over again.
We stopped at Tim Horton's for fresh hot decaf and donut holes.
It was a brilliant June evening, so we opened the sun roof. I listened to the Indians-Tigers game at a low murmur so he could work on his paper some more. We chatted briefly off and on, now and then, about nothing in particular. We shut off the GPS and trusted our own navigational skills. He handed me bite-sized chunks of donuts.
I remember the very first road trip Sam and I took together.
He was two months old and we were moving from Ohio to Michigan for a two-year stretch. My husband had gone ahead with the movers, so it was just Sam and me in my Chevy pickup truck. It was a brilliant July day. Strapped in beside me in his little car seat, Sam snoozed most of the way. I kept the radio to a low murmur so it wouldn't wake him. I talked to him briefly, off and on, now and then, about nothing in particular. I swabbed his face with tissues when he drooled down his chin.
I remember looking into his sleeping baby face searching for the grown-up man he'd be someday.
These days I catch myself looking into his grown-up face searching for the baby he once was.
Sam got an award at the end of his freshman college year for being the "Most Driven" student in his field of study. I know what they meant -- that he is feverishly pursuing ambitious goals in order to get where he's going as soon as he can.
Personally, I kind of prefer the slower paced manner in which he was driven yesterday -- in the passenger seat, at a more leisurely pace, without his foot on the gas, just along for the ride.
