A story from my childhood that aptly describes my sense of home…
A photo of me and my siblings on a road trip (although not the particular one that I describe in this post)
“Should I start packing up the car,” Dad asked, hands on his hips as he surveyed the pile of bags in the front hall.
“Yes, please. Make sure you leave space for the dog,” Mom replied distractedly. I remember her being bent over, double-checking the contents of the cooler. Adam appeared at the top of the stairs with Beaker on his shoulder and a plastic kennel in his hands. The parrot’s crest rose in excitement at the sight of the bustling front hall as Adam climbed past Madeline, who was sitting on the bottom step, tying her shoes.
“Madeline, take some Gravol now. And bring some to take for when we stop in Kamloops,” Mom reminded her.
“Is the scull already on the car,” Levi asked. He had emerged from the bathroom and was peering out the open front door. I don’t think anyone bothered answering him. The long boat was very visibly strapped to the top of the eight-seater SUV in the driveway.
Mom finally announced it was time to go. It took about fifteen minutes of arguing about who had to sit in the back seats, making sure we weren’t missing anything (or anyone), and Emily running back inside to get a Harry Potter book before we were finally pulling out of the driveway and were en route to the lake.
For most people, the drive from Vancouver to the lake takes four-and-a-half hours. It usually took my family nearly six but it was absolutely worth it because we got to spend all summer together with Grandma and Grandpa, swimming, digging on the beach, and trying to avoid sunburns.
This particular road trip was plagued with more stops than usual. There were Starbucks drive-throughs, gas fill-ups, pee breaks, and we had to stop for lunch. I remember that, at some point, Beaker chewed through the thick plastic of her kennel. Madeline forgot to take Gravol in Kamloops and got motion sick. Halfway through, Levi, Veronica, and I demanded that we switch seats with Emily, Adam, and Madeline (it wasn’t fair if we had to sit in the back for the whole drive).
I look back on it now and laugh, imagining that we must have looked like some sort of circus act pulling into gas stations and rest-stops, with six kids, a dog, and a parrot tumbling out of a car that had a boat strapped to the top.
But between all these chaotic interruptions we sang along to Emily’s mixtape CDs and told stories to each other. We played I Spy and then slept, resting our heads on each other’s shoulders. We’d convince Dad to buy candy from the gas station and we’d divide it up, meticulously counting every single one out so that they were evenly distributed.
It was during those times, between our home in Vancouver and the cabin at the lake, when we were all crammed in the car, that I recall feeling at home. When I was with my brothers, sisters, parents and pets, I felt a strong connection to my idea of what home means. These moments of togetherness always verged on being chaotic (they still do) but they were also always intoxicatingly fun and exciting and full of love and companionship.
So as much as I identify home with the blue house I’ve lived in since I was born, it has much more to do with the seven people (and the miscellaneous animals) I’ve shared it with.
A recent family trip to visit relatives in Australia proved to be every bit as chaotic and wonderful as our road trips tend to be
How beautiful this story is! I really was drawn in to the fact that home was with your large loving family … on the road moving. That home was a place where the people that you care about were, rather than an actual location, and that in fact the car for a moment was your home because that is where your loved ones resided for that time. Do you think having a large family made finding home in them possible? Do you think that for a single child with a single parent such an experience of finding home in each other would be stronger, perhaps due to necessity, or weaker, perhaps due to the other forces of home like a house or a city?
Hi Sarah,
It is hard for me to consider what home and family is for a single child and/or a single parent. While I have many friends who are only-children and several with only one parent in their lives, the idea still feels quite foreign to me at times because it is so different than my experience.
Based on my interactions and experiences with friends, I think finding a home within family for someone with fewer family members may differ in terms of who they include as family. I have noticed that my friends who are only-children rely more heavily on their friends and include them more in their idea of home. While I absolutely love my friends, my idea of home is more centralized around my siblings and parents. For smaller family’s, perhaps they extend their ideas of familial home to include close friends, or cousins, or grandparents.
Regardless of this, I think there is no way of judging who has a stronger sense of home because the experience of home is so individual and differs greatly from person-to-person (and from family-to-family).
Thanks for your question!
Eva
Hi Eva,
What a lovely story, and you said you are lacking in creativity in your last blog. I find the idea that the annual family road trip is your metaphor for home very creative and pleasing. I wonder, do you love road trips as an adult?
Hello Dr. Paterson,
I do still love road trips, perhaps more than ever, because of the warm memories I associate them with. Now that we are older, it is very rare to have all of us in one car at once but that seems to make the trips all the more precious. In recent years we have started doing road trips in smaller groups (in fact, I will be going on one with my younger brother over reading break). As kids, we didn’t often get one-on-one time with each other (we were always all in a big group) and so going on a road trip with just one or two siblings is quite new and has allowed us to strengthen our individual bonds more. I often think that if I have my own children one day I will continue the tradition of family road trips.
Thank you,
Eva