Driving in the Country

The plan was simple: drop DH at Son#1 and DIL#1's home, pick up The Most Adorable Granddaughter in the World#2, and make the short drive to pick up the remainder of Son#4's belongings from the hostel (since he's now finished for the year but there wasn't enough room for all his stuff in the car when his brother brought him home last Monday). While we were gone, DH, Son#1, DIL#1 and The Most Adorable Granddaughter#1 were going to make sausages from the goat that Son#1 had successfully hunted last weekend.

Simple plan. "We'll be back by 4.30," I casually mentioned as I took off with tyres spinning (much to DH's disgust).

A few minutes into our journey and we could see an ambulance ahead of us moving quickly. It always gives me a nasty feeling to see these emergency vehicles tearing down the highway but when we reached the intersection with the main road, it had disappeared and I breathed a sigh of relief. Ten minutes further down the road and we were forced to detour.

Instead of travelling south east we were now going south west. The truck in front of me looked to be going the same way and I thought I'd follow him but when he didn't turn off at either of the next two intersections, I decided to trust my instincts and take a left turn.

By now the Most Adorable Granddaughter#2 was asleep and Son#4 and I were travelling along narrow country roads. I could see the ranges ahead and felt fairly confident that we were travelling in the right direction. Shortly we rejoined the main road and continued on our journey.

We arrived at our destination, packed the car - and I mean packed the car - and prepared to make the return journey. I debated going another route but decided that the road would well and truly be open by now.

I couldn't have been more wrong. Again we were detoured along country roads. If there were signs it was usually fading black lettering on a peeling yellow background. Had it been a Sunday afternoon, I would've probably enjoyed this drive through the countryside - but with a truck on my tail, no knowledge of the road, and no decent signage, I can't honestly say I enjoyed it.

Nor was this helped by learning from Son#4 that just as we had been about to leave the hostel there had been a phone call for the hostel parents. A friend of their daughter - a young mother of five - had been killed that afternoon. I wondered had she casually said something as she'd left the house - "See you later" or "I'll be back soon" - just as we had when we had begun our journey?

When we arrived back at Son#1's home The Most Adorable Granddaughter#1 came out to greet us. "Why did you take so long?" she asked.

I explained that we'd been detoured, thankful that she didn't yet understand the implications.

After a delicious dinner, and after the men had finished making 107 sausages (The Most Adorable Granddaughter#1 announced after the first half dozen "I've had enough of helping now"), it was time to return home.

It was a sobering journey, with my thoughts returning again and again to the grieving family - lives changed in an instance - and being aware that my family is about to be scattered all over the North Island this coming week. All I can do is pray for them and entrust them to God. But sometimes I just wish they were babies again and I could tuck them in their beds at night and know for sure where they are - know what I mean?

Comments

SchnauzerMom said…
Wow that was a rough trip. I'm glad you got back OK. I do feel for that family who lost a loved one.
busymomof10 said…
I do know exactly what you mean. I miss the days when my little chicks were all tucked safely under my wing. It is so scary when they are all out and about driving around town or on the highway. All we can do is trust in God's mercy!

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