November 15, 2103
Departing the city, the houses were not clustered together like they were in my neighborhood. Before long, we exited the highway driving down narrow, country roads. The car drove past farm houses, barns, fields of corn and wheat and many crystal blue lakes. Crossing over a wood bridge, I saw two young boys fishing from a dock.
It was obviously clear. Yet, should I ask the annoying question, “Are we there yet?”
Our family packed a few bags containing swimming suits, towels and play clothes, along with a brown box that contained many picnic food items, including a fresh loaf of bread, fresh apples and peaches. A stop would be made at the Waverly Main Street Grocer for some more fresh food. The family piled into the car early in the morning and headed North to the lake. Lake Waverly. It was an extended weekend, a three day get away, at the family cabin. The route was traveled almost every weekend during the Summer months of June, July and August.
“Not quite yet, however, we are definitely near. Very near, my dear,” Mom replied, as I popped the annoying question.
For some reason, this road trip, to the lake, seemed to take longer than usual. Surprised that Mom was not annoyed by the question, I felt reassured and comforted by her answer as I peered through the windshield from the backseat and noted the gravel road becoming a country lane.