I've never understood why there are so many movies about road trips. The plot is usually some exhausting setup where there's bound to be plenty of conflict and trials, usually involving deep childhood trauma and toxic bitterness. Worse than that are the game-shows that combine a race and a road trip...don't get me started. My cortisol levels are peaking already and the thought of watching someone else run in contrived circles makes me nuts. Races are great -- there's a beginning and an end -- everybody hurries and somebody wins. It's when you put stops and starts and strange side hustles in that I exit, stage right.
I have been on many a road trip. As a child, our vacations consisted of an annual or bi-annual visit to our Grandmother's home in Illinois. Back then, it took better part of a day to get there from Georgia, mostly on Highway 41. We got to see the goat man most years (he traveled up and down that highway with a passel of goats, looking pretty forlorn). Daddy always stopped at Stuckey's on the way, where he bought a giant pecan roll and doled it out to us a chunk at a time. I still pick one of those up (despite my better judgment) when Ken and I travel and it reminds me of my fun Daddy and a rollicking childhood. That's my problem. I need to grow up and quit eating contraband. Those trips were usually done with five of us in a tiny Volkswagen or Ford Pinto, without air conditioning, us kids curling up and sleeping much of the way. We played games (Punchbug!) and sang stupid songs. There were no tablets or movies, just our imaginations and the Sandman. Our folks were content and frugal, but happy. That upbringing still serves me well. Now, the simple things are enough, and the extras are a delightful surprise.
Last week found us on another road trip, this one with Ken's sister and our brother-in-law to visit their brother and his wife near Orlando. We took Ken's monster truck, despite the fact that three of us needed the ladder to get in and out. Sometimes I get brave and twist myself in there without it, then I wonder what is wrong with my reamed-out right arm in the middle of the night. Melissa and I rarely get to talk for long periods of time, so we commenced the ratchet-jawing and didn't stop for some eight hours, with potty breaks, then repeated the same on the way back home. I really love her and enjoy her no-nonsense Norton-ness, which is counter to all my fluff. Besides being smart and level-headed, she is an amazing conversationalist and there is no one-sided exchange. She asks good questions and is interested in what others have to say. She also deserves extra crowns in heaven for taking good care of Ken's Dad the last few years of his life.
The subject of siblings is always a mixed bag. There are so many dynamics, good and bad, that affect the relationships. There are different seasons of life, spouses, jobs, children, difficulties, and what appears to be luck-of-the-draw that can change literally everything when emerging from childhood. We all take our different roads, leading to who knows where, and we also take pieces of our people along with us. Sometimes it seems like life is laying down a track in our souls, a recording with bits and bobbles of the folks and the circumstances we encounter along the way. This trip included three siblings with very different paths, albeit with similar core values of work ethic, morality and faith. They couldn't be more different in expression, but each as strong-willed as bulls, with a lot of potential for conflict.
And there has been that. I've often wondered what would happen if you put these three strong souls in a room and sealed the door for a week -- who would come out on top? Melissa laughingly says, "Me!" Hopefully, we don't ever have to test that scenario. Without going into too many details, I have seen forgiveness, humility and mostly the grace of God enable these three to come to peace. Often, death brings out the best and the worst in people. About half of my real estate business deals with estates and the fallout from probate court. I've seen angels but definitely more devils, when it comes to dividing up the old folks' stuff and facing unresolved conflicts in a family.
We drove, ate, bobbed in the pool while the guys worked on projects, ate some more, talked around the table and just had a generally great time. That grace of God is a very, very good thing. I highly recommend it...