Red, yellow, green, orange. I’m gazing out at every variation and combination of these colours as we slowly wind our way through stretches of the 401. Traffic is getting heavier and heavier. Thanksgiving weekend is drawing to a close. Cars, vans, trucks, and SUVs are spilling from cottage country roads onto the busiest roadway in North America. Everyone is trying to make their way back home.
As the sun streams in through the car windows, I think of newly created memories that are as fresh as just baked bread. Over the past three days, my two sisters and I reunited with parents, spouses, children, and close friends by our side. All at arm’s reach. All under one roof. The same roof that sheltered us as we grew through our childhood, youth, and early adult years.
We hadn’t all been together like this, under this particular roof, in close to 10 years. Where did the time go? Don’t get me wrong. We’ve all been together many, many times over the years that make up the past decade, but never under this particular roof. As we stretched our wings and grew our families, our parents made the effort to drive this roadway so we could all be together. But since our father got sick last month (see September’s blog entry), it is our turn to make the drive and reunite under the roof that gave us shelter all those years ago.
I glance up from the computer as I write this entry. As our car meanders through this slow patch of highway traffic, my eye catches a street sign that reads Shelter Valley Road. Huh. Interesting that I chose to use the word shelter and here it is. Every letter spelled out crystal clear before me. On the street sign straight ahead.
Red, yellow, green, orange. Thanksgiving weekend is drawing to a close.
Thanks for stopping by,