Kyra has been a trooper so far in the car. Two, 5-6 hour trips and she hasn’t strangled her sister yet. Maybe she is a little older than our last road trip, maybe it was the threat that I made her this morning, or maybe it’s a little bit of both. Thursday morning as we were getting ready to leave they were arguing over something ridiculous. I pulled them each aside individually for a kind, motherly lecture. Kyra’s went something like this: “When you were Tasha’s age I traveled everywhere with you because you were not in school. I could just as easily do the same thing with Tasha and leave you at home. She is fine when she doesn’t have to compete with you and I can easily leave you at home. I don’t want to leave you here, so please prove to me that you deserve to come.” I actually saw awareness hit her solemn, almost-10-year-old face as she agreed to do her best to keep the peace. (Was this wrong?! My mom seemed to think that was a pretty harsh thing to tell her.)
On our way into Tucumcari we stopped at the cemetery where my grandparents are buried to place some flowers
At one point on the drive, about 40 miles outside of Tucumcari, my mom mentioned that it was now that she usually became sad. It was then that she realized she should be going to visit “mama and daddy” but that they weren’t going to be there to greet her. We recalled how they would always be sitting out on their front porch waiting for us to pull up, or else they would be opening the screen door before we had a chance to put the car in park. We used to make that trip in one long 11 hour drive, with no cell phones. They must have been looking out the windows for hours just anticipating our arrival. That is dedication, and they sure were something special. I am so grateful that their temple work has been done and that I can look forward to meeting them in heaven again. I never knew my grandfather to be without a cane or hearing aids, so it will be a grand time when I make him chase me down for a hug and whisper “I love you” in his ear. I can still smell his deodorant, taste my grandmother’s cookies, and feel their loving embrace. Maybe they have followed us to Logan and are here with me right now as I listen to the hum of the room air-conditioner and watch my children flop back and forth on their beds by the glare of the computer screen.
Seriously, where are my mom and I supposed to sleep?!
2 comments:
jihonzpwI don't think it was too mean. She's 10. You gave a her a dose of reality in a kind way. Honesty is best with tween's I think.
I'm really smat tonight. In case you were wondering that's the code to leave a comment.
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