Country Road

I saw this picture on the blog of a new blogger friend: Carmi. He’s a person of many talents, as you should see for yourself when you visit him at www.writteninc.blogspot.com. I like to go there just to see what else he’s been up to. He’s given me permission to use this picture for this story. Thanks Carmi!

This picture brought back so many memories for me. One memory is of music. I can just hear my brother’s 8 track playing John Denver’s “Country road, take me home.” It played over and over again, so that song is permanently etched in my memory. I’ll probably be in an old folk’s home some day, staring blankly at the tv set in front of me, telling invisible people to shut up so I can sing along with that song.

The best memory, though, is of the road leading to Mamaw’s house. We lived in Southern California and Mamaw and Papa lived in East Texas. Needless to say, it was a long two day’s drive away. We would go to church on Sunday night with the car already packed, then leave as soon as the services were over. Dad would drive all night and into the next day, stopping to get coffee along the way which was strange in itself because he called it “liquid sin” any other time. This was before seatbelt laws, and during those hot evenings driving through the desert, I would sleep underneath the back window in order to feel the cool glass against my arms and face.

We would stop at a hotel in El Paso, swim in the pool until we were exhausted, wake up and eat breakfast at Denny’s or Howard Johnson’s, then head out again. CB’s were big in those days, and dad’s “Handle” was “Country Parson.” We would join a convoy with other truckers, always on the lookout for “Smokies” because we were not going the speed limit any longer. Occasionally we would be graced with a beautiful lightening storm, and I again would take advantage of lying under the back window. I watched nature’s fireworks create a brilliant light show, with electricity shooting through the night sky, creating tree branches of light.

At the end of the second day, though, we were exhausted. We bombarded my dad with “Are we there yet’s” and “how much longer’s.” Finally, though, we hit the country road: tree lined with bright yellow stripes leading the way. We forgot about being tired. We knew what was at the end of that road: hugs (lot’s of them), family, crawdad fishing, lawn-mower and go-cart rides, dominoes, catfish and hush puppies, swimming in the lake…

Funny the memories that can come from a picture.