Strapped with Memories

At one time during our drive to the end of the universe and back, Bryce let out a moanful wail that almost caused me to swerve off the road. He was complaining about his back being hot and itchy, and I'm sure it was. He had been strapped in his carseat for about 3 hours without a break, and it got me to thinking about the car trips we would take as kids. My dad would fold down the back seats in the station wagon and we would have the entire expanse of the car to roam around in. Like this, only moving.



On one such car trip, my dad took my brother and I to a New York Yankees game. On bat day. With our paid admission, we each received a regulation size Louisville Slugger baseball bat. Mine was signed by Micky Mantle. The year we went was Mick's last good year. He played all nine innings and hit a home run. This was one of my fondest memories from childhood because at the time I lived and breathed Yankee baseball. I slept with my baseball glove under my pillow and dreamed about the day I stepped up to the plate at Yankee Stadium.



One of the things that made this trip really cool was that from the time I was born until about the age of 7, my dad had a series of jobs that kept him away from the family for months at a time. He would come home for a few weeks, then leave again. The trip we took to the ball game was the beginning of his being home more. Up until this time, he had a job in a monitoring station in Greenland, working on the DEW line. While my mom was at home raising us, my dad was here.



I hope someday Bryce and Quinn will look back at some of our road trips with the same fondness I have of mine.