I remember driving down to Scott Air Force Base from Chicago every month for my drill weekend. Looking forward to driving with Michelle. Saving up all my latest gossip for the long 300 mile drive. I remember leaving Chicago from my college dorm, from my Grandmother’s house, from my apartment on the North Side, my Aunt and Uncle’s house in Summit, from my house on the West Side, from my work at the hospital, from my house in the West ‘burbs.
Fighting to get through the congestion in the city. Waiting to stop for food once the highway calms down on I55 down to two lanes. I remember balmy nights with the convertible top down. Snowy nights when the flakes hitting the windshield makes me feel like we are going warp speed. Gray skies in fall driving among the corn fields watching crackly leaves from the stalks spin around in a vortex above our heads.
I remember the Dixie truck stop as our half way point. We stopped at many questionable gas stations. I remember being so tired that we would just pull into a gas station to take a quick nap. I remember having the most deep intellectual conversations about life and philosophy. I remember listening to the best music and taking turns as DJ. Rolling into the gate to find out which billeting building we would be assigned to and then us both just staying in the better room. Looking forward to what the weekend would hold.
Whenever we had something really important to say; something that would require deep reflection, we would say, “save it for the drive”.
Save It For The Drive 