I traveled down this road recently and in my mind also traveled back over fifty years when our family of seven (my two younger sisters weren’t born yet) lived at the east end of this road and my maternal grandparents lived at the west end of it. We traveled this road a lot and it still pretty much looks like it did back then, narrow, rutted and old time-y.
There are four sharp forty-five degree curves on this gravel road and the first one (or last, depending on which way you’re going) goes down a little limestone hill and when we were children we often urged Daddy to go fast around that sharp curve. It tickled our tummies and made us laugh. This time I took that curve very slowly and then stopped to take this photo with my iPhone. It’s taken looking toward the east.
I had to smile because this stretch of the road reminds me of one night when we were on our way home from an evening at Grandpa Schrock’s place. When we turned east at the sharp curve we faced a large orange moon that was just coming up over the treetops. I was sitting between Mama and Daddy on the front seat and resting my arm on the dash of the car. I watched the big silent moon in the ink-crystal sky.
“The moon is making me hungry,” I said. “It looks like a big Ritz cracker.”
My Daddy, who laughed easily, chuckled at his little girl and said, “Give me some cheese and I’ll eat it with you.”
I looked happily up at him and we laughed together.
Today, as my father lies very ill in his bed, he still laughs easily in spite of his terrible pain. That’s what I like about him. We can look at each other and laugh.