When you know that you’re experiencing something that will be the last of it’s kind for a while, it makes it a little sweeter.
Road trips aren’t meant to be sweet for kids — might as well be prison for them. But road trips with your parents are sort of a right of passage for kids — they clearly don’t want to sit their ass in a car for hours on end but are forced to nonetheless. This was going to be our last trip for a while, the last of many things for a while actually — the last time to see his grandparents, the last time be wild and free, the last time to build a campfire — the last time for us to spend together because now he’s gone for ten months.
Being home reawakens your soul — not that you’ve necessarily lost it by being away, but coming home can make you feel alive in a way that little else can.
I love being on the road and being able to experience everything you’d normally pass over at 30,000 feet — and I loved making my kid do it with me, one of those “you’ll understand when you’re older” things. He got to experience a few things for the first time, like fishing in Puget Sound, seeing Seattle from the water, driving over the Cascades, to smell mountain air, eat a bratwurst in Leavenworth, and swim in a real lake.
We spent a week at the cabin and did absolutely nothing but swim, drink (…he had root beer…), chop wood, explore, swim, chop more wood, build campfires, eat ‘smores, swim, drink more, chop more wood, and swim.
Even though I’m sure the time will pass with the blink of an eye, ten months is a long time to be apart from something you cherish. The frames below are a slice of that week back home with Ethan — I’m missing my friend.