Today I am getting my family ready for our Spring road trip. We have chosen as our destination Colonial Williamsburg. This year I am traveling with my mother and 3 young children. My husband has decided to stay at work and have a vacation from the chaos of 3 bickering siblings suffering from cabin fever over Spring break. I decided early on that I would invite my mother to join us on a road trip. After my father passed away I was worried that my mom would never get to a lot of the places they had talked about going to. My father's battle with cancer was long and hard on our family and his death was harder than any of us thought it would be. The last time I was in Williamsburg with my husband and kids I tucked a picture of my dad into my purse and brought him along for the ride. This time I will not tuck that picture into my purse for he is safely and securely planted in my heart.
My mother and I have traveled this road of lose together for the last 4 years. My journey has been somewhat different, as I lost a father and she a husband. We have walked side by side and at times diverged from the same path, always to find our way back to one another for a quiet rest. My road has been dotted with hills and valleys, some of which I have been unable to cross over while others I have been able to soar high above. I could have done none of it without my mother. I could not have walked anywhere without the Lord. Often the walking has been enough for me and other times I struggle to get to a destination. I have found that getting to the destination isn't always as satisfying as the trying to get there was. Today I am preparing for a journey that has an exact physical destination but I am looking forward to the 'getting there' as well. I can't wait to see what the road will bring, what new people will be placed upon it, what new sights and smells will be delivered. Much as our forefathers must have sensed along their journey to building a new nation, I look forward to letting go of the past and going into the future.
The highlight of a trip to Williamsburg for me has always been the entrancing march of the fife and drum band down the main street of Colonial Williamsburg. My heart skips a beat as I can hear the winds of time in the notes of the fife and the marching on of life that is pounded out on the drum. I am excited to share this with my mother, to walk side by side with her on this road, to feel in unison, perfectly patriotic.
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