My favourite story ever

I talk to my mom on the phone every Sunday night. We just hung up, and she told me my favourite story ever.

First the backstory....My folks went on a driving honeymoon - they took my dad's old pontiac or chevy or whatever it was and drove to the Grand Canyon and the southwest US for a few weeks. They started a little ritual of kissing on each state line, and this stayed with me and my family to this day. My whole life, every time I drive across a state line I blow kisses to the other people in the car, to my family, or anyone else that I fancy kissing. Tom and I have even adapted our own bit that involves kissing and tapping the roof of the car. It's tradition.

So now the story...my mom had to run to LaCrosse last week, a trip she'd been putting off. Partly because of all the snow and bone-chilling cold, and partly because she doesn't like driving alone on the open road, and partly because my dad got all of his cancer treatment in LaCrosse and they'd driven that way together hundreds of times in the past few years and she just didn't want to deal with all the memories. But she needed to return some Christmas gifts and had to make the trip, even if she knew it might make her cry.

The first state line is about 15 minutes from her house, on a road that my dad redesigned right before he retired. It was one of his proudest achievements as a county engineer, and every time they drove it he would beam at how well it turned out. So by the time she got to Minnesota she was surrounded by his memory, and she was tearing up.

As she crossed the state line, she blew him a kiss.

And the radio immediately started playing Johnny Mathis' Misty, which was my folks' song.

Is that a perfect Valentine's story or what?

Comments

Mnmom said…
It was your Daddy MJ, he was right there with your Mom, right at that moment. Wonderful story!
Our family always had to say "zip" as we drove over a bridge, and the word had to be sustained the entire length of the bridge. This was especially difficult on the famous mile-long bridge in southern Iowa that my Dad helped design. Our favorite zip was the 5th Avenue bridge in Decorah. It's not the same with the roof.
Also, whenever we drove through Laurel, Iowa on the way to see my Grandma someone always had to ask "where's Hardy?"
Ah, that's bliss. And a great story.
Mnmom said…
I should say the fifth ave bridge is not the same WITHOUT the roof
Mnmom said…
You wrote "favourite" how cute you little Brit
Marni said…
What an awesome story...
Dale said…
Perfect and sweet sums it up. You write the posts that make the whole world cry. :-)
Melinda June said…
I am blo-ogging...and I write the POOOOOOOOOOOSTS!
lulu said…
what a sweet story.
Some Guy said…
Yes, it is perfect.
michaelg said…
That is a great story. I never knew your parents were so romantic. By the way, your dad did an amazing job on that stretch of Highway 52. I didn't know who thank before. Thanks, George!
I think it is Locust Road, MG, not 52. And it is beautifully done! I know your mom and knew your dad and this is a very heartwarming love story. Happy to be from Iowa is right, your Dad was right there in the car with her! BEAUTIFUL STORY!!! Thanks for sharing it!
That's very sweet. And look how popular you're getting now that you play with bloggers again.

Are you going to tell about your dad visiting the dining room?

Also, I thought the touching the roof + kissing was the family tradition; I didn't know that you & I made that part up. I still do it.
michaelg said…
The Locust Road, even better! Duh.
Yvonne said…
Gorgeous!

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