The 30 Minute Drive
I’ve thought about this a lot the past couple of times I’ve made the trek to spend a few hours with Dad. In the last year or so, that 30-minute drive to the place I grew up has become a hard route to travel. This entire journey is hard. When I drive over, the girls request our “van jam” songs and we talk about hanging out with Grandpa. In my head I'm thinking about how it really sucks that Lydia is at school at she misses out on time with Grandpa and that it really sucks that Bethany is going to be going off to school and she’ll be missing time with Grandpa. I wonder how Dad has changed since the last time we visited? Will he remember my name; will he remember the girls’ names? Will he be upbeat or is he having a down day? I feel so guilty that I don’t/can’t make this trip more often to spend more time with Dad. I spend time reminding myself that no matter what I’ve done to mentally prepare for the day, I have to throw all expectations out the window and just go with the flow.