Life is a highway

The endless road
Highway 401, Eastern Ontario
August 2013
This photo originally shared on Instagram

This photo tells a story of a very specific moment in the history of our family.

August 26, 2013. We were on our way home from Toronto. Just over six months after Debbie lost her mom, and three weeks since my stroke. It was my first significant trip away from home, so I was a little, um, nervous.

This isn't much of a photo, taken from an early-generation iPad because that's what was closest at the time. I was fidgety and needed something to focus on, hence the passenger-seat photo shoot. We were somewhere on the 401 westbound, but I can't be any more specific than that because, frankly, the entire highway looks just like this. Guessing by the timestamp, we were probably somewhere approaching Toronto.

My photo archives are filled with tiny photos like this one. Taken on a lousy camera, during those in-between moments that don't allow much time for finessing the composition or exposure. They'll never merit a frame on a wall, or considered discussion with friends. Or much consideration at all.

Yet they fill in those otherwise-empty spots in between the otherwise significant moments. They tell stories of the everyday, of the little things we do to fill the time between here and there. Of what it felt like to be in a space, at a moment, either alone or, as was the case here, surrounded by family, all enjoying the subdued adventure of a road trip.

We no longer have this car. So many of those we drove in to see are no longer with us. We live in a different world, of different languages and experiences. Yet going back to soak up memories like these feels like the right thing to do when the here-and-now feels a little unsettled.

Memories as buoys in a turbulent sea. Sounds like a plan to me.

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