It’s become a bit the norm, that my parents hitch a ride in with us when we have a relo function on the other side of town. It was my nephews birthday tonight, so of course this true-and-tried plan was put into action yet again.
I observed this sometimes-occurrence, at the end of the night as we were driving home. Saturday night, post midnight, and yet there are still numerous cars travelling out on the black road. My parents whispers filtered to me from the back seat, talking about what had been said between the aunts and uncles, what were the current goings-on, and everything in between. They sometimes complain when we head home late, but tonight, they seemed very alert for this time of day/night.
Hubbie sat beside me in the passenger, head laid back, mouth slightly open, breathing deeply. I peeked at baby girl in the seat behind him, and she imitated him with her head also tilted back in the seat. She is gently snoring, the consequence of all her running around, eating lotsa cake, high-fiving everyone around her and bouncing off couches.
I’ve recently come to take notice of these moments. Often a moment, a routine, a common occurrence, will become so ordinary to us that we don’t see the beauty, the simplicity and happiness inherent in it. In that moment I realised how lucky I was to be the driver in a car full of family, love and memories. Five of us in a car, doing our own thing, and yet I cherished the revelation.
In our car packed full like sardines.