A Long Trip: A Long Letter on What We Will Do

Dear Children,

We just returned from a trip of one thousand miles. We drove right into Winter Storm Borealis (which is not the precedent we'd like to set, for future reference) with Boston in our sights. It was only after we got going that I realized how this trip exemplified how we like to spend our family time in this stage of our life. 

In addition to taking you to the universities in our path, we will take you places to see how people work with their hands. We've taken you to see a violin luthier at work here in Charlottesville, and you've seen how your Grandpa Player made your dad a banjo, but we wanted you to see instrument construction on a larger scale. The Martin Guitar Factory in Nazareth, PA was our deliberate destination.

Here the history and legacy of this craft melded right into modern-day production. The museum showed us that, but we were most interested in taking you out on the floor.

We hope you remember how many different steps went into this process and how many people worked in so many different ways to make it happen. We saw people sanding, taping, scraping, rasping, measuring, candling, and inspecting. We watched machines etching with lasers and a robotic arm polishing the finished product in seemingly one smooth move. We saw rows, stacks, and carts of instrument parts. The whole factory smells of fresh sawdust, though there was virtually no sawdust to be seen due to sophisticated vent systems. 

It is possible that only one person enjoyed the factory (though we think you all enjoyed it), and if only one person learned something from the tour, it will be worth it.

We pressed forward to Watertown, Massachusetts to celebrate Thanksgiving with the G Family for the third year in a row, which brings me to the second thing that we will do when we travel. 

We will seek out our old friends. They will sometimes be people you don't remember well, but they are all important people in our family history. The have been our family during this time of our lives when we are far, far away from family. We want you to know their names. We want you to learn that it is important to choose good friends and be good friends even when you're grown-up with kids of your own. We want you to learn this truth: you will love the people that you serve and the people you serve with. Those common sacrifices will create a bond that will motivate you to drive 500 miles to see people again and again.

We will visit our temples wherever we go. We may only jump out, snap a photo, and then jump back in. Someday when you travel we hope you look for the temple, too. 

We love these two people good friends, by the way. And I'm kicking myself that I didn't ask Greta to move back so that we could see Eric's face better! I love that, without even asking, they drove us to the temple in Belmont, MA on the way to Concord.

We will go outside when we travel even when the world is frozen because we want you to see frozen Massachusetts just as much as we want you to see it when it is pleasant and green and comfortable. On this trip we learned to recognize the whistling noise that a pond makes when a rock is tossed across its thin ice surface. We went to Minute Man Historic Area and learned about "the shot heard 'round the world" as we walked across the Old North Bridge in Concord. Over and over I was grateful that the G family had enough gloves and hats because we drove north from Virginia unprepared for these important explorations.

We will go to banjo and guitar shops. We did that on this trip. After three years of wanting to return, Dan finally made it back to the Music Emporium in Lexington, MA. We dropped him off and enjoyed lunch at a restaurant while he played guitars and banjos and mandolins back at the shop, falling in love with the Chantrelle and Enoch Tradesman (again). If Dad is the only one to love this, it's worth it.

We will take you to historic homes and national parks, and we will encourage you to recall details of the stories that tour guides tell. We will ask you to count and guess and hypothesize--those thoughts are even more important than the stamps in your National Parks passports. On this trip we visited the USS Constitution at the Naval Yard, or "Old Ironsides" as she is sometimes called. 

We went down below and shuffled through tight spaces. I imagined the extra grime and grease of life onboard in 1812. We heard Taps played and the cannon fired as they lowered the flag at 5 p.m.

It is possible that only one person enjoyed the frigate (though we think you all enjoyed it), but if only one person likes it was worth it.

We will take you to museums, and we will donate even if they are labelled "free" if you have memorable experiences there. At the USS Constitution museum you swung in hammocks and "scoured the deck" and balanced on a simulated topsail.

It is possible that I will be the only one who likes the museums we visit, (though I think you all enjoy them in some little way), but if only one person likes it is worth it.

We will take you to places to play especially when it fits our budget. Some science centers and children's museums are a little too expensive for our little family. The Boston Children's Museum did not disappoint on their one-dollar Friday night. You dodged the digitized ball on this electronic mat, rolled golfballs for an hour, and hoisted yourselves with pulleys. It was a perfect Friday night exercise session.

It is possible that only one person enjoyed the vibe of this recreational place (though we think you all enjoyed it), but if only one person likes it was worth it.

We will take family photos and I will not throw a fit if you don't all look at the camera. We will not take a perfect family photo everywhere we go.

We will do all we can to help you have time with your old friends, too. The smiles on their faces and on yours as you remember all of your antics and adventures will be worth it.

Do you see the pattern? We have so many motives, but there is purpose behind our plans. Sacrifices we make as a family to benefit "the one" are worth our time all the time. In the end we hope what you learn and feel will stay with you.

We love you, 
Mom (and Dad)