Roughing It Smoothly, Part 2

The little things in life are important.  It may not be today or tomorrow that you can be thankful for what you have, but one day you will gaze upon something as simple as a stick of antiperspirant and know that life is good.  And for a short while, you should sit back and be grateful for all that you have.

It may take, as it did me, 2008 miles of family togetherness (complete with a most aromatic, “this is vacation and I don’t need to take a shower” pre-teenager), a ferocious bout of the “Teton two-step”, numerous run-ins with mosquitoes (I lost) and sticker shock from vendors who assign high prices to items you don’t really need or want – but can’t live without – for the unsuspecting, captive, starved for a souvenir at any cost, tourist… to remind oneself of the magnitude and importance of home, hearth, clean sheets and an unlimited supply of rolled (the person who invented the individual toilet paper sheets should be shot) toilet paper in its glory and sumptuousness.

Fortunately, as human nature will have it, the not so pleasant memories fade, or at best become rather obscure (which reminds me of child birth and labor and the fact that you do “sort of” forget the pain – well, at least some women do and then insist on doing it more than one time; others, usually us “older-type” moms, learn quickly the first time around and realize that one is a nice even number) and the good times continue to grow and prosper in the imagination.

I have never completely basked in any lesson learned when sharing the backseat with my older sibling and his warning to me of crossing an imaginary line (which was never clearly defined and a breath of air counted) on the seat, resulting in him flicking me on the arm and me then screaming bloody murder, which in turn would cause my dad to yell at my brother to stop and my mom always trying to restore the calm.  Clear retribution that as my parents took my brother and me on summer driving vacations, we in turn have taken our families and have passed the baton on to our children, hopefully who will then drag their kids, complete with car songs and games, on a great summer experience (maybe to visit Grandma!).  It is a right of passage of sorts, one of great importance that should not be taken lightly.  Individuals who have not partaken in this ancient ritual of vehicular travel should be approached suspiciously and questioned exhaustively on their true intent of vacation.

No vacation is perfect.  It is how you approach the situations that most certainly do arise that will be remembered the longest and laughed about the most.  Little inconveniences give way to reminiscences way past a normal life span and somehow magically transform typically logical folk into mush melons.  The “I am never going to do a trip like that again” mentality gently gives way to the possibility of trying it one more time.

And, never underestimate the arrival back home after the sojourn.  It is as much a part of the trip as every other.  Fear not the piles of dirty laundry that you brought back, the suitcases that need to be unpacked or the mail that screams to be opened.  Take a minute to step back and take it all in… it is always good to go, but it feels good to get back to home and the routine of regular life… it just sometimes takes leaving it all to appreciate what you already have.

Cynthia A. McClelland, curious observer of the obvious with interpretations of the oddities of daily life. Mother, wife and lover of the furry, resides in the north Lake Tahoe area.

Cynthia A. McClelland © 2003-