You Always Come Home


We’ve seen the gap. The Delaware Water Gap. We’ve been to Hazleton, PA and Elyria, OH. We candied and coffee-ed in Youngstown, Akron, Elkhart, and the Valparaiso Rest Stop. We consumed Twizzlers and Andy Kapps, Jerky and Gatorade by the sackful. In between, we’ve Sedered and Eastered and Brady-bunched and NCAA’ed. What is my Bible of Parenting? Throw two kids in a rented Avis midsize (major kudos to the Chrysler 3000, though that push-button starter thing is extremely unsettling) and tag on 2,500 miles roundtrip between Brooklyn and Chicago. Benchmark moment? Our “steps” have truly coalesced. We have become a family. The kids spent 5 days together and wanted nothing to do with Geri and me. High points? The beaming faces as 12 of us took in Second City. Or perhaps it was the parental joy of sharing the Rob Reiner classic “Stand by Me” and witnessing our kids glued (sans cell phones) for 2 hours. A good story still captivates. Blessed relief.

On the ride home, as we are want to do, the boys and I swung off the interstate and wandered the back roads of Indiana for 6 hours. We happened upon the Dari Point café at a crossroads on US Highway 6. The most expensive plate on the menu might have been five bucks. The eggs were delicious and the breakfast ham burnt around the edges and juicy in the middle. Just right. By noon the next day we were enjoying slices in Park Slope. This morning on the Q, an early morning mist was obfuscating the towers of lower Manhattan. A woman in a stylish leather jacket, spring-colored slacks, and striped Tom’s shoes was reading a paperback novel. She sported a leather briefcase on her shoulder and a thin silver band cleanly piercing the middle of her lower lip. Home. So, so good.