A Mom Reflects: How I Spent My Summer Vacation |
Ah yes, I remember it well.
It was a beautiful July day, the sort that made you want to trade in the reliable sedan for a sporty convertible, so that you could drive around with the wind in your hair and not a care in your heart.
It was the kind of day that made you glad to be alive, able to relive those endless summers of your youth, when friendships lasted forever and love until Labor Day.
I recall driving in the mountains, in awe of the divine hand which had molded such a masterpiece, while equally impressed by the human crafters who had so skillfully woven a ribbon of highway through the fabric of nature. It was, in fact, my first trip through the Rockies since childhood, and I was enjoying the contrast from the normally flat terrain of my home in Saskatchewan. It was a sight to behold.
I remember with equal clarity the time spent with my traveling companions, Dear Old Mom and Dad. I believe I was still a teenager, enjoying one last, great adventure with them before I made the lone trek into adulthood. We were on our way to Vancouver Island to visit my older brother, who had recently relocated to Duncan. Our plans were not definite and we were free to travel at our leisure. We knew we would not stay long enough to wear out our welcome, yet allow enough time for him to remember why he had moved two thousand kilometers away from us.
As we drew closer to Vancouver, I took over the wheel of the family car. Despite my parents’ combined college education in excess of ten years, along with my great ability to read maps, we some how managed to miss the Coquihalla Highway, and found ourselves driving the 'roller coaster,' better known as the Trans Canada Highway.
This highway is truly a masterpiece of engineering, and unites our great land better than the Meech Lake Accord ever could. As it draws nearer to Vancouver, however, it winds, climbs and dips through the mountains of the West Coast, so those poor souls who are afraid of heights or constant changes in elevation are best advised to find an alternate route.
In accordance with the terrain, the speed limit of the highway varies greatly, but never more than that which could be attained by, say, a pack mule or Model T. As I drove, I watched carefully for signs that would mark my distance from Vancouver, and the time passed as slowly as the distance covered. I drove for what seemed like eternity, only to be rewarded with the knowledge that I was now ten kilometers closer to my destination. I sighed, and allowed myself to be calmed by the gentle sounds of snoring coming from my father, who had passed out in the back seat.
After awhile I began watching the traffic going in the opposite direction, and was struck by the similarities of the passing motorists. It was at the height of the summer holiday season, and the majority of the opposing movement consisted of an array of motor homes, trucks carrying campers, cars pulling trailers, and so forth. I noted, however, that despite the variety of vacation vehicles, most carried precious cargo consisting of two or three children, a diversity of family pets, and a parent in the front seat who was invariably unrecognizable due to attention focused on the back seat passengers. The scene was made complete by the addition of a haggard-looking driver who was 'getting away from it all' by taking it with him.
My thoughts returned to my own childhood, and our frequent family vacations. Each summer, my parents ventured out with the loaded-down car, rented trailer, and three rowdy kids to some far-off park where we would spend a week making treasured memories which would last a lifetime. Unfortunately, my strongest recollections are of being sandwiched in the back seat between my two older brothers, with a sixty-pound pooch sitting across us with his head out the window and the wind blowing his drool back in our faces.
I also remember being terrorized by said brothers in the back seat, calling out for the help of my mother, who issued numerous warnings before telling my father to, 'Pull over so I can beat the children!' At this point my father, who had promised to love, honor, but mostly obey, did as he was told and my mother turned around and flung her arm over the back of the seat. Of course, by this time my brothers had pulled a blanket over the three of us, and Mom was forced to hit whatever dared to move underneath.
Ah yes, I remember it well.
My thoughts returned to the present trip, and I shared them with my mother. She laughed, and stated that none of this had ever actually happened, so it shall forever remain her memory against mine.
I do, however, remember my request of her. I said that if I should ever marry, give birth to two or three children, load them into some sort of recreational vehicle and drive halfway across the country, and then dare to call it a holiday, she was to shoot me on the spot.
Fast forward ten years or so.
I should be dead right now.
I have found my soulmate, and yes, we have produced the requisite 2.0 children. We have the dog, the station wagon, and the tent. I have not yet mustered up the courage to move up to a minivan and trailer, but no doubt they are out there, waiting for me like a ghost in my closet or monster under my bed. Is it possible to have nightmares of events which have not yet taken place?
And as winter begins to set upon us, I have memories of our trip this summer, the drive from Saskatchewan back to our home on Vancouver Island. (Apparently my brother did not move far enough away as I managed to follow him. He has since relocated to Taiwan.) I was wise enough to fly ahead with the children, while my husband stayed behind to work two more weeks, and then drive out with the dog. I am not sure if his 'vacation' occurred before or after he left home, as he seemed to be having a wonderful time whenever I phoned to see if he was adequately lonesome for his beloved family. That, however, is another story yet to be written.
We spent another two weeks in Saskatchewan visiting with family and friends, then began the long drive back. We allowed five days for the trip, uncertain how our young children would travel. They did surprising well, although they were both restrained in carseats, and spent much of the time sleeping. The poor dog fared the worst, as he was seated between the two youngsters, and became the target of our two-year-old once he became bored with his toys and books. My husband solved the problem by making the dog a 'perch' on a blanket spread over the luggage in the back. The dog then spent the rest of the trip in deep relaxation and contemplation, reminding me of the oracle at the top of the mountain.
Our overnight camping experience also passed with relatively few problems. I had expected the worst, only to find that the most damage our kid could do was accomplished by finding the flashlight at 2:00 a.m., and waking up the family by making shadow puppets on the tent wall. After several attempts, my husband successfully hid the light from his firstborn, and the rest of the night passed without incident.
Having survived this vacation, I have a vague notion that my Dear Hubby is already planning next summer’s itinerary. I sense it when I see him eyeing up provincial maps, and what about that book he bought that lists every campground between here and Florida? He now slows down when we pass RV dealerships, and I have caught him looking at the 'trailer for sale' posters at our neighborhood grocery store. At times like this I have to control my urge to slap him gently upside the head and remind him why these people are, in fact, selling their trailers, but I will allow him to have his dream.
So next summer, when you pass yet another station wagon hauling what appears to be a rented trailer, equipped with two energetic children, a confused canine and two adults who look like they need directions to either the nearest campground or therapist, please think well of them. Or better yet, wave at me as you drive by, and be thankful, as it could just as easily be you.
And in thirty or so years, when my offspring describe the camping vacations that are planned with their young families, then ask me if I have memories of a trip we took when they were little, I will smile, and answer, 'Ah yes, I remember it well.'
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Heather Mallett | July 12, 2009 at 5:38 pm - §
I loved your article last year "50 activities under $50.00 or free! And I had a few to add. Corn Maze, Imax Movies, Local recreation centres on those rainy days. I hope you'll run another article like this with many new and exciting ways to have lots of family fun! Happy Summer!