The Open Road

I love this photo of my mom. It is one of my very favorites. She looks so young and healthy. Key Word: HEALTHY. This was before cancer. Before that horrible, evil villain came and stole my mom away from me. Because if you trace back all of her health problems, they all lead to that awful, five letter word.

Early on in their marriage, my dad took this photo of my mom during one of their bike rides together. I love the long open road ahead of them. Or maybe it is the road where they came from. Either way, it represents an open road of possibility. I remember being newly married and the excitement of the limitless possibilities ahead. We could live anywhere, do anything, and make plans on a whim! I like to imagine my parents during this season of their lives. Young. Wide-eyed. Eager. The road they traveled down helped them make some amazing memories. I'm so glad they traveled it together with grace and humor and a sense of adventure.

All this talk of open roads reminds me of one of my favorite Robert Frost poems. I grew up listening to my dad read aloud much of Frost's work. I'm sure you know it too, and I think it is appropriate.

The Road Not Taken

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood, And sorry I could not travel both And be one traveler, long I stood And looked down one as far as I could To where it bent in the undergrowth; Then took the other, as just as fair, And having perhaps the better claim Because it was grassy and wanted wear, Though as for that the passing there Had worn them really about the same, And both that morning equally lay In leaves no step had trodden black. Oh, I marked the first for another day! Yet knowing how way leads on to way I doubted if I should ever come back. I shall be telling this with a sigh Somewhere ages and ages hence: Two roads diverged in a wood, and I, I took the one less traveled by, And that has made all the difference.