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Presented by benandsteve.com By: Benjamin Groff II©s
The Long Holiday Ride
The old pickup truck rattled down the highway, packed tight with the Miller family. The father, Dale, gripped the steering wheel, his sharp eyes scanning the road ahead. Beside him, their mother, Janice, balanced a warm dish of sweet potatoes wrapped in a towel on her lap. Every thirty seconds she would let out a ‘hiss,’ and reach for the dash, her only comment to Dale’s driving. In the same seat, the children jostled for space. Clayton, the eldest at twenty-two, leaned against the window with his arms crossed. His younger sisters, Maggie and Rachel, squeezed in beside him. Then there was little Jack. He was the baby of the family, barely eight, and sat between his sisters. His feet barely touched the floor.
It was the same every year. They drove forty miles on bumpy roads. Gravel spat against the undercarriage. The chilly air sneaked in through cracks in the old truck’s frame. The family’s first stop was Janice’s side, the sprawling Henderson clan, where a sea of cousins, aunts, and uncles waited. The noon meal would be loud, laughter filling the air along with the scent of roasted turkey and homemade pies.
Clayton was ever the quiet one. He watched the open fields pass by. Meanwhile, Maggie chattered about the games she’d play with her cousins. Rachel checked the food in the back. She made sure nothing had tipped over. Meanwhile, Jack, restless, kicked his feet. He asked every ten minutes, “How much longer?”
When they finally pulled into the driveway of Janice’s childhood home, they heard the noise instantly. It hit them before they even got out of the truck. Kids ran around the yard. Adults stood in clusters laughing. The kitchen was an organized chaos of steaming dishes and busy hands. The family squeezed through the door, greeted by warm hugs, as coats were peeled off and plates were filled.
After lunch, games and stories took up the afternoon. Clayton found himself talking with an uncle about work on the ranch, while Maggie and Rachel gossiped with their cousins. Jack, after an impressive three plates of food, ran outside to join a game of tag. Dale was talking to his favorite brother-in-law, about a horse he was bringing along.
But there was no time to linger too long. As the sun began to sink, Dale gave the usual call: “Time to load up! We still got another stop!” They groaned and said their farewells. Everyone piled back into the truck with full stomachs. Hands waved through the window.
The second stop was Dale’s side, a quieter gathering with just his sister’s family. Fewer cousins, a calmer atmosphere, and jokes cracking from Bus and Virgil. Aunt Sis served coffee and pie, and the talk was slower, nostalgic—old family stories, memories of Christmases past.
Rachel curled up in a chair with a book while Maggie helped Aunt Sis in the kitchen. Jack, fighting off sleep, leaned against his mother, his eyes drooping. Clayton sat with his dad and uncle, talking about the year’s crops and the price of cattle.
By the time they left, the truck was much quieter. The ride home was filled with drowsy murmurs, Jack fast asleep against his mother’s side. Rachel and Maggie leaned on each other, the warmth of the long day still lingering. Dale, was dreaming of all the memories he had been reminded of while seeing his folks and kin.
As the headlights cut through the darkness, Dale glanced in the rear view mirror at his family. It was a long trip every year. Yet, as he looked at his wife and children—fed, happy, and together—he knew it was always worth it.
The holidays weren’t about the miles traveled, but the moments shared. He never had a million dollars, but he sure felt like it.
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