Country Road

I went on a trip today, to take my mom to visit my aunt. My aunt has been very ill for a long time and is now living with my cousin and his wife. He is a cop and she is a nurse. They have 2 small children and my cousin's 19 year old daughter from his first marriage also lives with them. Three long hours into Wisconsin to get to their home. Whenever I take one of those drives I am mentally lured back to my childhood, to a different way of life. To those quiet notes and long summer days that we access only on the printed page and through our own memories. I wonder if that way of life isn't still alive in these little towns. It's silly I know, but going past the old churches and by the miles of railroad sidings, by the barns and pastures it seems just possible. Like nothing has changed. Like you could go home again.

It's a mirage, of course. We arrive at my cousin's and he is exactly as I remember him; a sweet faced boy, now in a middle aged body posturing about the mean streets of middle-of-nowhere Wisconsin. I'm sure his criminals are like criminals everywhere. No better, no worse. His kids are normal, sweet kids, playing video games and watching Sponge Bob. Another cousin has come to visit as well, now balding and a bit paunchy, looking like his father, focused on downloading pictures onto a laptop to show them to my aunt. He recalled mushroom hunting when we were kids. I have no recollection of this. He swears it is true. And so we visited my poor aunt as she drifted in and out. My cousin's wife came home from work. Invited us to return. As we left, all I could think of was getting home. I drove for 3 hours and did not stop.