Once again, we packed up the car. I stacked the suitcases neatly. Found places for the four tons of blankets and stuffed animals my children require for weekend getaways. Gassed up the Honda CRV, eased onto I-80, eased off of I-80, and drove north through Iowa on lonely interstates. Braved inevitable rain storm. Made our way from the cornfields to the bright lights of Twin Cities. Downtown, Petula Clark.
52 gave way to St. Paul just in time for a traffic jam.
“This is my home,” I proudly told my children, glancing at the skyline as I dashed between semis.
“I taught there,” I pointed at Roseville Area High School as 52 turned 35E turned into 36. I did teach there. A thousand lifetimes ago. Go Raiders.
Back to Minnesota for about 24 hours of nostalgia. A little more than that.
***
My wife Katie’s aunt was killed in a car accident a few weeks ago. Her and her husband were struck by a kid who was driving too fast. Just awful. Kurt Vonnegut wrote that life is no way to treat an animal. Death isn’t either.
One of Katie’s family members was having a graduation party on the same day of the funeral. And a family friend was out of town and offered to let us stay at her place. So there were multiple reasons to pack up my Honda CRV and hit the road with my family for a quick trip.
We arrived on a Friday. The funeral and graduation party were on Saturday. Tried to see a little family. Got back in the car on Sunday morning. Eased on and off a bunch of highways and made our way back to Iowa City.
The trip was as quick as a blink of an eye. As the flick of a wrist. As the passage of time. Whatever idiom you like. I don’t know. Five hours isn’t the longest drive but it isn’t the shortest either. We had enough time to go to funerals and graduation parties. See the skyline of St. Paul. Hug some people we love. And get overwhelmed as all get out.
I’m typing this on a Sunday night from back in Iowa. My blood pressure is slightly elevated and the grass needs to be mowed, but all the luggage is put away and the blankets are back where they are supposed to be – piled eight miles high on Solomon and Samson’s beds.
***
Since I moved away in 2015, I’ve never been back to the Twin Cities without an agenda. Always people to see and places to go. Trips home always leave me conflicted. I have many people I want to see and never enough time to see them all. And I rarely have time to enjoy being home by myself. I haven’t walked alone by the Mississippi River in over ten years. I used to do that.
One of our early trips back was in 2016. We left the boys with a family friend one afternoon so Katie could get her hair done. The trendy little parlor was adjacent to a trendy little coffee shop and a trendy little brewery. I assume these places were trendy, anyway. They seemed trendy to me. I’m not much for keeping up on trends anymore. All three places were little. Regardless, I double fisted a coffee and a beer and sat with my laptop in Northeast Minneapolis. A quiet afternoon to myself in the city I grew up in. That is one of my favorite memories of our trips back home. I don’t know why.
Solace is important. You can’t really escape responsibility at 44. At least I can’t. Two kids, a family, and an email inbox that just won’t quit. I hope I learn to get better at shirking some responsibility in my mid-forties. Shirking is a fantastic verb.
All in all, I’m very glad we went up to the Twin Cities and saw the family we were able to see. I’m also glad, after 10 hours in the car this weekend, to be back in Iowa. More miles on the car. I’ve become a road trip warrior since 2015. If I were wealthy, I’d be like Taylor Swift. Personal jets to take me around the country. Climate change be damned. As it is, I rely on my 2019 Honda CRV to whisk my family from here to there and back again. The ol’ girl is over 50,000 miles. And here, importantly, I need you to know that I have never before called my CRV an ol’ girl and will never again do so.
This little road trip has left me a little punchy.
Samuel Jaye Tanner 