Drive to watch daughter gives her break from season's madness
With just days left before Christmas, I found myself stepping away from the madness to drive up to The City to watch my daughter dance.
I grumbled about it at first. I'm super busy this time of year, and it was almost 200 miles round trip to go watch one dance that frankly I had seen before, and even more frankly, didn't quite understand. (Side note:.. When did dancers become so anguished? Bless their hearts.)
When I asked my daughter if it was a big deal for me to go, she answered honestly and said she's love it if I'd go, and she'd be sad if I didn't. So I went.
Anyway, once I was on the road I realized that what I was really doing was getting a break, and getting to see both my daughters, however briefly, is always fun. So yay for me.
It was that day the cold front blew in, and then it started to drizzle. I trucked on, but once I got into traffic I realized that people were having problems out there. I passed a dozen wrecks and wipeouts, and emergency vehicles were all over the place. My other daughter finally had to give up driving from south to north through downtown, and it started looking a little scary.
I have brand new tires on my car, and I think that's what saved me. I didn't have any problems, but I feel like I drove through about six different climate zones, including a dense fog as I pulled back into town around midnight.
Road trips always give me time to clear my head. I started thinking about the holidays and my family's propensity for doing the most. I remembered years ago breaking away from a crazy night at work to go to a basketball game where my (then) little girl was dancing. The babysitter had brought them both there, and when I popped in my girl was so glad to see me she jumped on me and hit her head on mine and I bit my tongue and cried, making us both feel bad.
I remember setting up for a work Christmas party and the babysitter calling me to say my youngest had a fever of 105. She had trouble reading the thermometer properly and meant to say 100.5, but by then I was hurdled into space to get home and too spooked to go back after that.
There were the late Christmas Eves when my young daughters wanted to perform a full episode of "The Nutcracker" for us and romped around the room for what seemed like hours while we fought sleep and mentally prepared for Santa to work his magic. We didn't have the heart to shut them down but, in hindsight, we should have.
Just a few years ago, I went with some other adults and the entire high school dance team to San Antonio so they could dance on New Year's Day at the Alamo Bowl. That was a massive undertaking, although I was really just along for the ride and others worked far harder than I did.
Who knew dancing was such an extreme sport?
So my short excursion through the Polar Blast to watch one dance is just another experience of many, and after I adjusted my attitude I was glad to do. It's one of those experiences where you don't really realize it, but are actually some of the best times of your life.
Wishing you many good times, and knowing it. Merry Christmas.