Landmarks

"Are we there yet?".  For probably thousands of years that classic phrase that has tormented parents in many languages all around the world.  However on this day, it is music to my ears as my trusty sidekick/daughter and first time co-pilot, Ellek rides shotgun in the moving truck we're driving from Michigan to North Carolina.  Just one hour in on our almost seven hundred mile trip she begins to warm up the vocal engine for the barrage of third-degree soon to be released.  "Is this going to take two days, daddy?".

It's been a rough six months trying to relocate my family.  I'm bringing my daughter and most of my house down with me now.  My wife is still home in Michigan, working and prepping the house for sale.  And she's eight months pregnant!  An unconventional approach for most; irrational and insane to others.  It's not the easiest transition for us, either.  But, my wife and I are Pisces.  We ride a wave of emotion and the timing just seemed right.  We made a decision and now we're going with the flow, no resistance.

Ellek is a great roadie, too.  She's made some serious trips with us over the past six years.  But never with just me, in such a huge vehicle, and in the front seat with a great view (yea!).  We talked a lot about new rules, school, a new environment all together.  Her attention and interaction was quite unexpected.  I've missed a lot these past six months.  She did not require the DVD player, Leap Frog "Leap Pad", or Kindle "Fire" that are usually there to allay her from becoming too antsy or irritable over a great distance of time.  Oh, we brought them!  We just didn't need them. 

How goofy shouldn't a responsible parent act behind the wheel of a 16 foot box truck?  Well, as long as you explain why you can't look at everything your child asks you to look at, you pretty much just need to keep your eyes on the road and your hands upon the wheel (The Doors).  I haven't made so many faces or spoken in so many voices in a lonnng time.  And, in my whole life, I don't think I've ever counted to one-hundred by 3's, 4's, 6's, 7's, 8's, and 9's.  It was a landmark occasion for me and I looked pretty impressive to my baby girl.  "Hey look, honey!  Look at the beautiful gold dome of West Virginia's state capitol building".  "Pssh!  I know, daddy.  I seen that before when I came down with momma...it is pretty, though".

Just as shocked as I was when I realized that she had a peer group in pre-school, I was just as impressed that she also considered landmarks while traveling great distances.  Like, the view of the Roanoke Valley at night time.  It looks as if the stars are on the ground.  "Yeah, except they're lights. ha!" she says  "That means we're almost there, right daddy?".  "Almost, honey.  Not quite, but almost".  You see all you really have to do when they ask the same question is just give a different answer. 

Just like the highway, life is full of landmarks: Emotionally, mentally, spiritually, physically (Mayor of Munchkin City).  But, the biggest landmark for me is when I am with my wife and daughter because then I know I am, at least, home.  But, no landmark is permanent.  There is no proverbial mountain top, only greater distances to go.  So, as long as "Are we there, yet?" is still a viable question, the answer will always be "no".  We'll just have to think of new ways to get there.