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Traffic was not just heavy, it was terrible. We moved half a mile per hour.
That first hour wasn't so bad. We had plenty to talk about. But since we had begun our trip two hours before we hit the traffic, we soon became restless thinking about the three hours still ahead...that is, if traffic started moving faster than a turtle with a limp.
That's when it happened.
It was my suggestion, but I didn't think he'd agree. I can be too juvenile at times, but he went along with this idea. I almost couldn't believe it. If he had said no, my feelings wouldn't have been hurt; it did seem quite ridiculous and even a little uncomfortable. I didn't know if policemen targeted people with that behavior, but it would definitely make us stand out.
He put the car in park and we counted to three. Shoving the doors open, we lunged into the chilly air, our cheeks instantly turning pink. We ran around the car three times and then returned to the warmth of our car like nothing had happened. But something had happened: laughter. Freshly invigorated, we laughed and chattered for the next hour it took for traffic to begin moving again. A wreck had cleared, and I realized that someone else's tragedy had been our spark of hope.
As I sat with him tonight at our ten year class reunion, I remembered what my sister had said about hers: "We could have gone back to class on Monday, and everything would've been the same except that most of us were married
and had children." Yes, everyone had the same personality, the same facial expressions and mannerisms, the same types of hobbies. I was still running around my car with the man I love and a determination that, no matter what comes our way, we can get through it together. With all the changes that seasons take us through, some things remain.
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