Three days of sitting in a cramped car, counting semi-trucks until I lost count, eating greasy fast food, sleeping in uncomfortable beds in mediocre hotels, and we weren’t even there yet. Not even close.
“Are you watching the exits, Meara?” Mom fiddled with the radio dial. She refused to let me play my music. Instead, I was stuck listening to whatever 80’s station she found.
“I’m trying.” Now that we were in Canada, most of the road signs just confused me. Why was everything listed in English and French? I smoothed the map across my lap. “Which one am I looking for again?”
“Meara.” Mom sighed my name. “It’s not that hard. Notre Dame du Lac, just think of the college or the church in France. Notre Dame, not that hard, right?”
Lucky for me, we were approaching a sign that listed the next four exits. I noted that the sought-after Notre Dame was only two away. “There, Mom.” I pointed. “We should reach the exit in a couple minutes.”
“Great,” she said. “I’m starving.”
A new song started, and Mom turned up the dial before I could stop her. It was Forever Live and Die—her favorite song by her favorite band. Unfortunately, I knew the song and didn’t share the love. I remained quiet while she harmonized. She had a decent voice. I turned to watch her. The sun caught the copper highlights in her hair, and I saw the crinkles in the corner of her eye behind her tortoiseshell sunglasses. She looked happy. Content. I wanted to remember her that way forever.