In her feature piece on classic cars, Linnea Lundgren writes this to describe one local’s truth:
“Life has always appeared to pivot around automobiles in significant ways.”
And while first struck by how opposite this is for me, and how cars seem to figure so peripherally in my memories, suddenly I’m drawn back to places where this roars to life.
Standing, a little tot myself, on the front row bench in my parents car in motion; driving a tiny Fiat around the tight corners of a road that hung against the high rugged edges of the Amalfi coast; sitting on the back of a motorcycle in Portugal manned by a kid who would end up being my husband; the first time I drove my big “mom car” on a long road trip all by myself—just me and the kids; the first time I got a mom car.
Or how now, these days, my oldest daughter learns to drive. And how she drove herself somewhere the other day, and how I swapped her seats to drive away and said goodbye to her out the window, and she spun away, the first flecks of summer sun glinting off the ponytail spilling down her back.
Cars take us forward—but backward too, and life is a highway indeed: another school year behind us, and summer upon us. Which, to me, means one thing: more memories to drive into.
I love it.
Happy June, friends!
Brooke Benton, Editor