2 – Big Ideas

Dad,

 Do you remember the long car rides we used to take coming home from visiting the grandparents? You had gotten your new job at GenRad and we had moved from Weymouth, where you and Mom grew up, out to Acton, where I did most of my growing up. For the first few years, we drove back to Weymouth every Sunday, to spend time with each of your families. We had Sunday dinner at Mom’s parents’ house and visited for the afternoon, then had Sunday supper at your parents’ house and visited for the evening. As our family grew and we became active in our church, these Sunday visits became less frequent and eventually stopped. But we still went back for many holidays.

Driving home in the darkness late in the evening, Mom and the other kids would fall asleep as soon as we got to the highway. You would say it was my job to keep you awake by talking to you. I was happy to be your helper in this way. I’d scoot forward onto the edge of my seat and grab the back of your seat. (We didn’t wear seatbelts back then.) I’d watch the rear view mirror, so I could catch your eye whenever you looked back at me.

Sometimes I’d chatter about school or my friends, but what I most loved to talk to you about were what we called “Big Ideas.” I’d ask you to explain infinity to me. I’d tell you my theories about God. We’d wonder what happens to people after they die.

Those drives were some of my favorite times with you. You never criticized my ideas during our talks. Even though I was only in grade school, you made me feel like I was smart and my thinking had merit. You made me feel like I was special, more grownup even than Mom, who fell asleep like my siblings. I wish you had been able to make me feel like this more often.

Karen