The man who removes a mountain begins
by carrying away small stones.
It had started as The Great American Road Trip. We were a family of five encased in a blue minivan inching along a ribbon of highway from Texas to Canada and back. For three solid weeks. With three children.
I had begun to sense the curvature of the earth as we rolled steadily northward, making our way to Lake Louise. My husband, Jim, and I had spent a lot of time listening to The Byrds singing “In the Blue Canadian Rockies” when we were dating, and had always wanted to go there.
Jim and I had been on various cross-country car trips with our respective parents as we grew up, and wanted to give Amy, Jessica, and Margaret similar memories. It was 1995, and our daughters were then ages 14, 11, and 7. Continue reading