Destination: Dallas (March 29, 2013)


On the road again, this time driving to Dallas with my three kids, friend Jodi from church, and her 3 kids, all in my minivan. You may think it’s crazy, but it seems like my children spend less time irritating each other in the car if other people are around. So far it seems to be true. I’m going to Dallas to revisit my adolescence, since I lived there during my middle and high school years. More on that later. Jodi and her kids are going to visit her sister, who moved to the area with her husband and children last year.

Today we drove from Grand Rapids to West Memphis, Ark., where we took refuge at a Comfort Suites. It was a long day of driving, but the adults-in-training (ages 2-15) handled it with aplomb. Everyone got along well and stayed happily glued to whatever electronic entertainment they could get their hands on. Jodi got them to look up briefly to make note of the Mississippi River as we drove over it.

Travelling with a 2-year-old made me realize again how much time has passed since my own children were that age. And how much less they need from me as they sit in the back of the van! A young child strapped into a car seat is so unable to help himself in any way—can’t get anything, can’t even reach the floor. My brother and I used to ride around in the trailer perched on the back of our pickup. If we needed anything, we just pounded on the sliding glass window that separated the cab from the trailer. If they were feeling nice, my parents could talk to us. If they’d had enough of us, they could pretend not to notice the desperate pounding.

We, on the other hand, are painfully aware of every need one of the 6 kids may have—there’s no avoiding it. And for that reason we are grateful that the littlest one dealt with his containment so very well. Of course, strapped into seat belts, the kids are also less likely to have a wrestling match. In the good old days, my brother and I had plenty of room to drive my parents nuts. We could sleep on the ledge of the back window of the car. We could beat each other senseless with room to get a nice windup to whatever punch we wanted to deliver. In my glossed-over memory, I just settled in and read a good book as we travelled along in peace, but if I really think hard about it, I remember the howling and the crying and the bleeding.

Along the way we waited eagerly to drive into spring. We’ve had such a long winter in Michigan; it started a little late, but has more than made up for it. The patches of snow stayed with us for quite a while, peeping out from the farm fields halfway through Illinois. We started to see a bit more green, and the snow disappeared by the time we stopped for the night. As we moved out of the farms into the more rolling hills and swampy areas of lower Illinois, we noticed the hints of buds on trees via a reddish tinge to the branches. By the time we got out for dinner, it was a thrill to notice we didn’t need coats anymore, and that we might almost be ready for short sleeves.

One thing anyone driving from Grand Rapids to Dallas along the Memphis route learns: Illinois is a very long state. It just keeps going. And so do we, tomorrow.

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