Just got back from four days in Canada visiting Brent’s family. It is an annual road trip we have taken for years.  When the boys were young, they made the trip in the back of the minivan…seats folded flat, pillows, blankets and food on board and not a seat belt in sight. It is a wonder they lived to adulthood. We would hop on I-15, head north and ten hours later end up in Myra’s kitchen listening to the latest happenings in Taber, Alberta. 

Life has changed. Grandma Myra is no longer there with the news or her cooking, but Brent’s brother and sister are still anxious to welcome us back to the Homeland. This time it was just Brent and me, buckled in and ready to roll. 

We stayed with Maureen and Buster. Maureen has always reminded me of her mother, with a take-charge personality, lots of conversation and a desire to feed the masses. Part of the reason for the trip was to help Stephen, Brent’s brother, and his wife, DeRae, move. They have reached that time in life when downsizing is the smart thing to do. Stephen spent a considerable part of his youth weightlifting…serious weightlifting…and his knees have paid the price. So, their three-story townhouse was no longer practical. Hence the move to a one-level abode. 

When you are in your seventh decade moving is a chore. So, a moving company was hired to box up and deliver stuff to the new place. Kitchen boxes landed in the kitchen, bedroom 1 boxes in bedroom 1…you get the idea. There were a lot of boxes because there was a lot of stuff. When the moving guys finished distributing every box in every room, the head guy showed Stephen an electronic-on-the-screen bill that needed signing. This is not an easy thing for an old guy and while signing off, he inadvertently hit a button that produced a $400 tip. He hit ‘accept,’ signed his name and made some movers very happy. After the movers left, we asked if that was his intention, he replied, “Nope, but I couldn’t take it back after making them so happy.”

We went back to Maureen’s after unboxing and organizing. Brent and I went downstairs to get ready for bed and I could hear ‘Myra’ upstairs. It was actually Maureen, but without her physical presence in front of my eyes that voice elicited all the memories of a time gone by. The tears surfaced as I remembered my boys, their grandmother and trips from decades past. Were the memories and tears my intention? “Nope, but I wouldn’t take them back because they made me so happy.” Life is good!