The Long Road "Home"

Got on the road at 4:30AM, and it took over twelve hours this time. I wasn't in my usual rush, hurrying to see my kids, trying to cram every single second into my visit, because this time I'm going to be living near them. I won't have to jump in the car in the darkness before dawn and drive back home, to be ready to go to work on Monday. I'm an old hand at this road trip stuff. Even bring my own T.P. for the cruddy "rest stops" in Oregon. I glide by the women standing, waiting for a bathroom while I slip into to the one without T.P., saying, "I brought my own".


Conscious of the significance of this trip, I waved goodbye to Washington as I crossed the border into Oregon and then again as I left Oregon to enter California and swear that I am not carrying fruits or vegetables into the state. I used the time in the car to think. I also listened to music instead of all talk radio, trying to get in a more relaxed mood for my next life chapter.



But one of the stories I heard on NPR was "Recession Diary: The Long And Winding Road Home" about a young family who moved from Maine to Los Angeles and back to Maine in little more than a year, as a result of the economic crisis and resultant job losses. Mom, Dad, infant and big dog traveled across the country, stopping frequently to feed baby, walk dog, etc. It took ten days, but when they finally got to Maine, they had dinner at her Dad's house, where he told them "It's so wonderful to see you here. I mean, I know what you've been through and just how difficult everything's been, but what an incredible upside to all these trials, having you home. Whatever comes next, this is the best."



Then they drove on to her Mom's house, where they would live. "It was late, so we tiptoed in to find a room all set up for us. It was more lovely than either of us could have anticipated. She had put up all kinds of pictures of me as a kid, as a little girl, and the bed was really beautifully made."

(What a lovely, thoughtful person. Knowing how difficult things were for her daughter, she went out of her way to make them feel welcome and wanted.)

Her Mom said, "So for me, it's a treasure and, um, it makes me think about the old way of doing things, when there were multigenerational families, and for the small amount of time that we have together, it makes me realize the richness of that."

Of course, life isn't all soft, gauzy photos and sweet music and their life is still chaotic and basically on hold.

You may want to hear the whole story by Caitlin Shetterly:

http://www.npr.org/templates/story/story.php?storyId=104131481

As I listened, I began to cry. Her family viewed them as a "treasure".

I remember having to make a similar trip many years ago. My husband, my cat Bootsie, and I packed up our Toyota Corona in 1970, after losing our jobs, and moved everyting we owned back to New York to my parents' basement. We lived there, sleeping in my childhood bedroom, for three months until finally we found new jobs and moved to our own apartment.

One of the reasons I wanted to move "home" to New York was to be near to my parents. I knew that I might not have them in my life for long and I wanted to be with them. I had gone off to college at age 15, then gotten married at 17, so I had been away from home, living in California for several years. Well, my Mom left us in 1984, but at least she had eight years with her grandchildren and me. My Dad's 95 and still living in that same house. My Mom and Dad used to drive from the Bronx up to our home in Connecticut almost every Sunday where Dad would play with the kids in the pool, teaching them to dive and swim and horsing around with them. Certainly my childrens' lives were richer for having this time with their grandparents.

I'm glad I went home. My life was richer for their presence.