It's sweltering near 30'C as we drive with open windows and hearts along the five laned I5, on our way to western coast adventures. Our kids are riding in style with Lady Wanda and Duke in their bright red convertible. I watch the hands poking through the sunroof with a wave as we travel close behind.
I see my daughter's newly cut hair flying behind her as she shares endless stories with her her captive audience. A plastic blue bird can be seen flying between the generations as Lady Wanda plays pretend with her grand daughter's newest McDonalds treasure. My husband is enjoying an uninterrupted segment on his podcast while I have a rare quiet chance to reflect and write.
This trip has been planned for seven months and we are now realizing our intentions. This morning we awoke to a panoramic view of lush mountain valley in chilliwack and tonight we will fall asleep to the fresh ocean scent in Astoria. We are blessed to share this family chapter with fellow adventure seekers who exemplify the role of grandparents.
A piece of my family is on this trip too. As I type I am listening to my childhood camping song list of Nitty Gritty Dirt Band. We are following the same blue lines on a map as my parents did with the truck and camper when I was eight years old. I recall a feeling of safety and excitement from decades ago. Memories of chicken by the ocean and my dad hiding my sandals on the coastal beach are withdrawn from my memory bank. I smile because it is now my turn to gift this experience to my children.
These are days to remember.
