When I was a kid, it seemed that my dad could drive forever. Perhaps my memories are distorted, but I recall eighteen-hour drives that were frequent enough to be considered routine in our family. I've been in all fifty states - and most of those visits happened on family trips.
When Julie and I started doing our New York trips, I figured that I would drive like my dad. And that's pretty much how we've done every trip. We did spend a night on the road on our way to New York last weekend, but that's because we couldn't leave until Julie finished work on Friday. After all, it's only 850 miles to New York - and I can hear my dad saying that anybody should be able to drive that in a day.
And that's usually exactly what we do (though I must admit that it's getting harder to do that as I grow older).
I'm not sure what cosmic principle is involved, but the trip home is always much quicker. Once again, we made it from New York to Saginaw in exactly twelve hours. The last leg of the journey (from Saginaw to points north) is always the toughest, but our trip home yesterday was surprisingly easy.
Coming home, I was reminded of this beautiful poem by Jane Kenyon . Our arrival wasn't precisely like this - but it was pretty close.
Coming Home at Twilight in Late Summer
We turned into the drive,
and gravel flew up from the tires
like sparks from a fire. So much
to be done—the unpacking, the mail
and papers ... the grass needed mowing ....
We climbed stiffly out of the car.
The shut-off engine ticked as it cooled.
And then we noticed the pear tree,
the limbs so heavy with fruit
they nearly touched the ground.
We went out to the meadow; our steps
made black holes in the grass;
and we each took a pear,
and ate, and were grateful.
We turned into the drive,
and gravel flew up from the tires
like sparks from a fire. So much
to be done—the unpacking, the mail
and papers ... the grass needed mowing ....
We climbed stiffly out of the car.
The shut-off engine ticked as it cooled.
And then we noticed the pear tree,
the limbs so heavy with fruit
they nearly touched the ground.
We went out to the meadow; our steps
made black holes in the grass;
and we each took a pear,
and ate, and were grateful.
That pretty much describes our arrival home last night.
We were short one person in the van, but so deeply grateful for so many things.
It's always great to get away - and it's always great to come home.