When Rogan came home from his skiing trip in February, the one he’d paid nearly half of from the cakes business he set up, we asked him what adventure he’d want to go for next.
“A road trip with Dad,” was his reply.
This almost floored me with a combination of love, pride and worry about how we could afford it.
Almost exactly 7 years ago, I found out my mother had cancer. I leapt in the car and drove 500 miles South to see her. I also took Rogan with me. This might have seemed an odd thing to do, but he helped keep me grounded. The fears and emotions were so overwhelming, I knew that having to look after a 6 year old would force me to keep a grip.
For Rogan, it was great: he got to sit in the front of the car, change the CDs, and be in charge of the sweetie box. While we were there, all the adults made a fuss of him, and during the drive down and back, he had me all to himself. What 6 year old doesn’t crave the chance to sit in the front of the car with his Dad and go on a journey together? Clearly it left a powerful impression on him.
We did it again 7 months later. He got to meet and hold his 1 week old cousin. And it was the last time he saw his granny.
Although Rogan is now very much a teenager – large feet, periodic loss of coherent speech, and often found holding the fridge door open and staring at the contents – he can’t have reached the point where his Dad is the uncoolest person on the planet and everything I say is stupid. Yet.
Next year, of course, things could be very different, so if this was to happen it would have to be… let me see… summer… tricky… autumn… might be in Canada… hmmm… Easter? Yes, Easter holidays.
Bugger; that was soon.
After some planning, which included the idea that staying with relatives would be cheaper than Guest Houses, we decided on a route that would take in places from my childhood as well as a chance to meet up with my sister, brother, nephew and nieces, then up to stay with my father before heading home.
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