Find another route…

I was driving down a back street yesterday and I had a revelation! I was totally screwed by my parents!…now mom…don’t take offense to this. (no offense taken!…hee hee…I like to talk to myself to justify my own words…it’s a little thing I've picked up from being completely alone most of the time!) Oh well…(smile)…I realized that we are all a product of our childhoods. That being said, the point is that no matter how great or how bad our childhood is, there is apparently no “right” way to raise your children. My choice for my children in the future would be the way my parents did it- with fantasy, creativity and a unique family bond that many would look at as a colorful, flowery version of the Munsters.

Anyway…the back roads…As a kid, my mother used to take this crazy route to the mall….As a matter of fact, she and my father both, would take crazy routes to just about everywhere we were going. I remember taking friends with us, and on many occasions (if it was their first time riding with us) they would say, “Um…Where’s your Mom taking us? Is this right?” I would giggle and reply, “Don’t worry. Dad says that this way is more romantic!” From then on, they would love to ride with us because they were excited to see where we would go while somehow still reaching our destination. I think my father started this, though I’m not sure that they didn’t both have this zest for life, which is probably what brought them together in the first place! He would always take back roads everywhere. He loved the trees and the fact that there was no traffic. He called it “romantic.” I guess I hear him on that point…but it may explain why romance in my world consists of driving really fast and being lifted into the air by bumps in the road and laughing hysterically. One of my sisters was always a little bit different than the rest of us for some reason. She had a sense of embarrassment for our crazy ways. She was hosting an exchange student from Spain one year and my father and I took her with us to go pick the exchange student up when she arrived. He drove one of his “romantic” routes home and pulled into the driveway of a burned out shack on one of the back streets, turned off the engine, and he and I pretended to get out as though it was where we lived. (He and I had a thing like that! We didn't need to talk to know what the plan was!) The look on the exchange student’s face was priceless…the look on my sister’s face was even better! We laughed and got back in and drove to our real house that, though I’m biased, was the most beautiful house in the world! It spoke it’s own language because inside it had the personality of every dimension of the definition of family and it was truly a part of us! As for my sister…I’m not sure that she ever got over it but she’s wonderful anyway!

So what’s the moral of this story?…No matter where you are in life, there are many different roads you can take while you’re living it. The most direct route may not get you to your destination any quicker, but many people feel safer on it. I don’t feel safer on the direct route. I was taught that there are many ways to get to where you are going. The road where you laugh and throw your hands up in the air with a sort of freedom that allows you to enjoy even the simplest of journeys, is usually the one I choose. The only struggle I have is that there are very few people who grew up the way I did so there aren't many people choosing that road. I suppose I could try the other one…but would I be happy on it? Well! - Would you believe that I actually ran into a guy who was driving on this same road?  Yeah...he was driving a bit slower than I was but thank God he was. I'm fast and furious and he's methodical and distracted...The perfect couple don't you think?  If he had been going as fast as I was, we would've ended up running into each other head-on and ended up in the creek!