I take the back roads. I pass a couple of farms and residential areas. Every now and then I get stuck behind a tractor going 15 mph, and during the school year I have to stop on occasion for school buses.
However there is one thing I look forward to on my commute during the school year. As I make the drive down one particular road, there is a group of houses on my left. If I make it before the school bus arrives, I often pass a father and son passing a football. Sometimes they’re standing there going back and forth, sometimes the father has the son run for it. Sometimes the son misses and chases after the ball. But they’re always smiling.
The father and son pass the ball back and forth every morning. Early in September they are wearing short sleeves switching to light jackets as fall approaches. Come winter, they’re in heavier gear, and the process reverses as spring arrives.
When the bus arrives, the son picks up his backpack, waves goodbye, and boards the bus. The father waves back, still smiling, and watches as the bus takes off before he goes inside.
That’s the kind of father I want to be.