It was almost a month ago, when I embarked on a journey with my parents down the West Coast.  This adventure made me reassess a few ‘nevers’ I had on my list:
 

1. I will never travel with my family in an RV.   (ERASE)

2.  I will never be the one driving the RV.  (ERASE)

3.  I will never drive an RV in LA Traffic.  This one I kept, are you kidding?!  

I congratulated myself for the two I managed to take on.  Never say never…no one knows for certain what the future holds.  

You see, my parents have raved for years about their RV trips and the campgrounds they experienced.  I knew they were planning another trip around the belly of the Western States, so I had this idea to fly into Portland, Oregon to meet them and give this tiny-home-on-wheels-living a try. 

Since they live out of state, it’s extra special when I get to visit with them.  I knew this adventure would be different.  And the sound of their voices when I told them my plan, was classic,

“YOU want to ride in the RV with us?” 

I had been craving some ‘parental unit’ time and this was my best solution.  I wanted to MAKE memories.  

Flash forward to Mt. Shasta, on the 5 freeway, going south.  I’m sitting in the Captain’s chair of their 33-foot long RV, towing another vehicle that’s an additional 16-feet.  The landscape is changing.  The roads are curving into narrow passageways hidden by trees.

“Dad, are you sure the roads are straight around here?”

“Sure, nothing to worry about,” he whispered, as his eyes became more heavy with sleep.

Doubt hung around my head like an incessantly buzzing insect.  My grip on the bus-like steering wheel tightened.  I could feel my jaws clench, hoping I wouldn’t get a case of TMJ again. 

…and then we proceeded up the through the pass that reached 3000 feet.  Thanks Dad! 

Yes, my parents taught me well on this trip.  I was happy to learn about a completely different skill.  Not that I plan to go out and get an RV immediately.  My main goal was to have an adventure with my folks and I did.  We became Team Almer, a very rare feat.  Not to mention me, my folks and their two dogs all in one little space…and we still love each other.  That’s an accomplishment!  These memories are going in the books for sure. 

And I even earned a new title.  Dad now calls me his Wingman, and I have this trip to thank for that.

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This Thanksgiving, I am so grateful for new family adventures and all the memories that we created.  I am also very grateful for you, the reader.  It is such a joy to be of service.  

I wish you a glorious Thanksgiving with your families and friends.  I encourage you to savor each moment and breathe in all the giggles and laughter you could possibly breathe in. 

Wishing you a memory-MAKING holiday, 

Lesley