In the universe, there are things that are known, and things that are unknown, and in between, there are doors. William Blake
When I was young, three or four years old, we lived on the top of a fog-covered Tennessee mountain in a town called Sewanee. The University of the South is in Sewanee, where my father went to college. Three times a week, I went down from the mountain top to a day school created by the Shriners in Chattanooga. This was a day school designed to teach and work with children with disabilities.
Looking up this trip on Bing maps, I realized that it was 57 miles from our front door to the front door of my day school. This means that three times a week my father would drive me down the mountain and leave me at school. He would then drive back up the mountain and, of course, return later in the day to pick me up.
As I count, that is almost four hours of driving three days a week! Two of those hours he was alone, but the other two hours he had company. I sat in the front seat, ready to sing songs and tell stories as we made that long drive.
There were several interruptions along this trip. The road had to pass through tunnels as it weaved in and out of the mountain. I was terrified of the dark (probably more than a bit claustrophobic). It did not matter whether we were in the middle of the song or the heat of a story, when the road curved toward the tunnel, I would feel my body tighten with fear.
Now my dad is a smart man. During that time, he knew I needed a distraction. He knew that even as a four-year-old, I was always ready to play with words and figure out puzzles – the first step toward learning logic! (I rode with him in the car a lot!)
We began to play a game.
"Is it a tunnel or is it a bridge?” his question stirred my imagination. Of course I saw the tunnel. It was obvious. I would answer, "it's a Tunnel!" And his response would be "it's a Bridge". We went back-and-forth until I could see a sliver of light as the road curved out of the tunnel.
This game helped me survive many rides through those tunnels. I would always be grateful for that diversion and for the many hours that my father drove up and down that mountain for my well-being.
In the universe, there are things that are known, and things that are unknown, and in between, there are doors.
To this day when I go through a tunnel, I wonder if there is a bridge somewhere above! It may be a simple question up against our larger curiosities. But it was the beginning of many lessons on how to live in a world that I cannot control.
Lessons used every day…
what a beautiful, loving way to be a parent!
I'm not a big fan of tunnels, either...