The Uphill Slide

There is always something.



Gas: $2.19/gallon. A driver’s reward for a seeming price war in Harmarville between the Marathon and GetGo. GetGo won by a dime with their 10 cents off for using the loyalty card. I was on my way to Bedford, my every other Friday night drive with Caleb. He was crying when we left and crying again after we arrived. In between, he slept. But his crying and upset stopped when from his vantage of head out the sunroof, ┬áhe saw his dad’s car pull beside ours.

For months in the summer and fall I was driving every other Friday and Sunday to Bedford to meet Caleb’s dad, but now Cary and I each take one way. The drive has become so commonplace that it even seems shorter than it was in the beginning. I could drive it with my eyes shut and often do drive with my mind imprisoned in thoughts, at least on the way out. Sometimes I even forget my sleeping passenger who auspiciously wakes up as we pass through the toll booth. If we’re early, we sometimes get food at Sheetz or McDonald’s, my bad habits bequeathed to him. Last night we were early so we bought food and then parked to wait. Suddenly he started crying for mommy. He didn’t want a hug, at least not one lasting more than a second. He did, however, want the sunroof opened, the opening button he discovered only recently on another Friday night wait. So despite the chill, we looked out at the dark sky and waxing crescent moon.

The return trip to Pittsburgh was incredibly short as music filled the car and the exits passed quickly. This drive was behind me for another two weeks.

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