The scene is set for a disastarous winter trip- snow, ice, an old sports car, and two young foolish drivers. We were prepared with chains for the little MGB, and never really considered how silly we looked chaining up and then following semi-trucks over the mountain passes, our car bravely straddling the piled snow. As you must surmise, we arrived safely in Las Vegas to spend Christmas vacation. We probably gave little thought to any worries our parents may have shared about this drive.
Almost 30 years later, our daughters are now driving from far distances to visit us. They are good drivers with safe cars, fully equipped with air bags, good tires, and all wheel drive. Cell phones provide easy communication. Do they worry? Probably not too much. Do I fret about their arrival? Absolutely!
Monday, January 28, 2013
Wednesday, January 16, 2013
Driving down the road, Part 1
Paul is one of five children, and the only one of the Brosy clan who has moved out of Oregon. His family is truly remarkable-they all get along, every last sibling, child and cousin. The Tualatin homestead, a log cabin on the river, remains the gathering point for all holiday get togethers. I joke that Norman Rockwell could be painting our picture at any celebration, but it really is true that this is an ideal group, and I am so lucky to be included.
My birth family is much more complicated and crazy, with the exception of my sweet mother. We yell and fight, and often don't talk to one another for years just because someone forgot to shut a door, or told the wrong joke, or because it happens to be Wednesday. The only artists painting our family portrait would be Dali or Jackson Pollack.
Paul and I marry between our third and fourth years of dental school, and I am surrounded by a fabulous, loving group who wants to celebrate births, birthdays, Easters and St. Patrick's Days all together. This has been something I've always craved. So what do we do our very first married Christmas? When we only have a short semester break? When our only car is a very small, MGB convertible? When it is snowing fiercely over the Santiam Pass and roads are closed all over Northern California and Nevada? Why, drive to Las Vegas, of course, a good 900 miles away, but the home of my dear family.
To be continued...
My birth family is much more complicated and crazy, with the exception of my sweet mother. We yell and fight, and often don't talk to one another for years just because someone forgot to shut a door, or told the wrong joke, or because it happens to be Wednesday. The only artists painting our family portrait would be Dali or Jackson Pollack.
Paul and I marry between our third and fourth years of dental school, and I am surrounded by a fabulous, loving group who wants to celebrate births, birthdays, Easters and St. Patrick's Days all together. This has been something I've always craved. So what do we do our very first married Christmas? When we only have a short semester break? When our only car is a very small, MGB convertible? When it is snowing fiercely over the Santiam Pass and roads are closed all over Northern California and Nevada? Why, drive to Las Vegas, of course, a good 900 miles away, but the home of my dear family.
To be continued...
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