Road Trip Shift

We hit the road to Delaware yesterday for my brother-in-law's wedding. It's a trip I've taken countless times since my own wedding--the big difference this time is that my oldest, 17, was behind the wheel. On 95. In a car loaded with three of my four most favorite people. He needed the experience of a long drive, so off we went.

Two hours is a long time to have one's emotions collect and concentrate at the top of one's throat. He proved that he's a good driver, calm and focused. He made smooth lane changes, maintained a steady speed, and he pumped the gas, an added perk to the trip. It was just that one moment when the highway split and one audibly fast driver cut us off at the tail, swerving right by us in what seemed like a near miss that made us both gulp for air as we watched him disappear ahead.

My son is growing fast into adulthood, and I'm proud to see him driving with two hands on the wheel. Then I consider the instances when best efforts don't matter, and I'm back to gripping the door handle and my knuckles shine white.