I was about 5 years old when my mom started taking me to a braided rug making class in Middlebury, Vermont. It was normally about a 40 minute drive around the lake and over the Crown Point bridge to get there, but my mom, notoriously late, could make it in 30 minutes. Sometimes I swear she could get our old paneled station wagon up on two wheels going around corners, like Joey Chitwood at the county fair. I held on for dear life and prayed we didn’t hit a cow. That was on the way over.
On the way home however, the drive lasted an hour or longer as my mom would take the most circuitous routes. If there was a road we hadn’t been down, she was taking it. It didn’t make any sense to me and I started thinking that maybe she didn’t want to go home, maybe with seven kids at home, she just wanted a few more minutes of freedom. I didn’t know, but I certainly was going to find out. So, finally I got up the courage to ask and her reply went something like this: “Don’t you ever wonder what’s down that road. Aren’t you curious where it comes out? But most importantly, what if we see something amazing along the way?!”
After that, I understood why we took so many roads and it gave me great joy to point out something new we hadn’t seen.
Over the years I’ve kept my mom’s sense of adventure. I’ve traveled around the world and as far away as the South Pole. I’ve never forgotten her words and the lesson she taught me. And I still take unfamiliar roads even when I know the way home. Indeed, I’ve seen amazing things along the way.
|