Previous Challenge Entry (Level 2 – Intermediate)
Topic: Car Trip (07/18/05)
TITLE: Sunday Drive
By toronto49 Aird
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But sometimes, interspersed in the ritualistic Sunday routine, was a surprising invitation by dad, "Who wants to go out?" Like little puppies we all jumped excitedly at the chance to go for a Sunday car ride. Each of the five children would then yell out their preference in seating. Despite the fact of owning a Studebaker station wagon limitations still prevailed. With only four window seats, of which mom and dad claimed half, two window seats were up for grabs. This left the entire back end of the station wagon and two remaining seats sandwiched between the passengers in the front and rear. True to the children's “International Law of Dibs” I was first to claim my place in the very rear compartment of the station wagon.
After fueling the car for less than three dollars our family of seven soon left their tiny Wisconsin town headed for the small rolling hills of America's Dairyland. Starting off slowly we knew that dad’s inner child would soon prevail. He was a safe driver and besides there was mom who always reminded him of the rules of the road and other duties as assigned.
Speeding from one hilltop to another my vantage point provided the breathtaking view of where we were going and where we had been. It seemed that the whole world was ahead of us and that the whole world was behind us. On we would travel in our never-ending roller coaster squealing with delight and joking as we asked, “Has anyone seen my stomach?” I remember how our laughter filled the car and permeated the country air.
Like those distant rolling hills of Wisconsin so are the distant memories of past Sunday drives. Memories of a simple car ride in which the country air was filled with the howls, screams, and laughter of a closely knit family enjoying each other’s company and our wonderful time together.
For better or for worse life changes and sometimes families grow apart or family members pass on or roller coaster rides are not as exciting any more. But, memories are fixed. Often traveled again and again are those rolling hills on a lazy Sunday afternoon. An innocent and unencumbered time where the only concern of the moment was where one would be seated to enjoy the adventure that was about to unfold.
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