A story from last year, just thought I'd share.
Memorial Day has come and gone. That means summer is officially upon us. Cookouts, pool parties, vacations and drives are all high on my to-do list.
This Memorial Day found me at my mom’s for our annual family cookout. My mom has the gifted talent to make any event seem very special. From fresh flowers on the front door step, to decorations on the table, a selection of fresh appetizers, succulent main course paired with a nice wine and of course dessert. The Martha Stewart of Kansas.
I always get nominated to grill the latest season of meat for the meal. No, not to brag, but I have grilled steaks in 100-degree heat, chicken under an umbrella in a rainstorm, shrimp while being pelted by sleet, and on this perfectly sunny 75-degree Memorial Day afternoon, beef and chicken kabobs.
Cooking at my parent’s house is fun and a little nostalgic. My father died more than 15 years ago. He was a car guy’s car guy. He even bought my mom a ’99 Boxster because she said she liked the color. Coming up on 75 years old now, she still drives that little red Boxster. This Memorial Day, after the family cookout, I took mom’s Boxster to see Dad.
On the way home, I took a turn on Red Bridge road and headed to Blue River road. (Very patriotic, right?) Blue River road is a hidden ribbon of asphalt that rises and falls with the Little Blue River and Minor Park. Evening shadows and beams of sunlight take turns dancing on the road as I run through the gears. I only slowed once to take in the hidden waterfall.
Returning safely to the garage, I think about my Dad and Mom. Somehow I know he’s glad she is still driving that little red Boxster.
