Halfway Across the Country, Family Adventures and Scenic Memories

My parents had been staying with my sister and brother-in-law in their home, helping keep each other safe during the very early stages of the Covid-19 pandemic. Unsure of what to do during such an unprecedented time, they opted to stay put as mandatory lockdowns and widespread travel restrictions were put in place.

Here in Queens, NY, things were looking even worse as our hospitals were extremely overwhelmed, and millions of people losing their jobs. Much of the early pandemic (and perhaps what remains still too) is marked by confusion, fear, and a desperation to understand the virus that had taken over so much of our daily lives.

However, mom and dad had only packed and prepared to be away from home for about a three-week stay, and after six months my dad was running out of insulin and it was time to return back home. Charles and I decided to drive to CO to bring them both back to NY as safely as possible, avoiding plane travel and crowded spaces.

The next morning, we got back on the road, eager to make up some miles. As we moved west, finally cruising through Kansas, the sky seemed to stretch on forever. Vast and unbroken, the sky unfolded in every direction. It felt like we were driving toward infinity, a golden horizon blending seamlessly with the open and clear road ahead.

After hours of driving, we finally reached Denver. The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows over the mountains in the distance. We were only about 30 minutes from my sister’s house and it was such a relief to be able to see them again, especially after all the uncertainty of the past few months. There’s something distinctly special about arriving in a new place, especially when you’ve been on the road for so long. The sense of arrival, the promise of rest, and the joy of family all seemed to converge perfectly as we pulled into their driveway. We spent the next couple of days together, soaking up the rare opportunity to reconnect as a family. It had been too long since we had all been in the same place, and with the chaos of the pandemic still lingering, it felt even more precious.

But as with all good things, our time in Colorado was too short. We had to return to New York, to work and to the reality we’d left behind. As we pulled away from Denver, heading back east, we felt a deep sense of gratitude for the open road, the desolate and rich landscape of America, and for the family we had the privilege of spending time with along the way.

From the moment we crossed out of New York state, we were treated to an ongoing tapestry of American landscapes, rolling hills in Pennsylvania, unexpected weather in Ohio, endless anti-abortion and Trump billboards while we drove sandwiched between massive Amazon trucks.

Preparedness is key. We didn’t want to find ourselves scrambling for food or supplies, so we packed a cooler full of grab and go snacks, water and seltzer as well as simply but satisfying homemade sandwiches — turkey, avocado, and cheese, with just the right amount of spicy mayo on a Hawaiian roll. We’ve learned that a good sandwich and chips can be a game-changer on the road.This isn’t our first, second or third long road trip together. It has always been our favorite, and at this point I’d like to believe we’ve perfected it on our own terms. Thinking ahead, coordinating stops, and planning the route. It’s an art, really.

Just as we were driving through Ohio, we ran into a brief but dramatic hailstorm. The sky went dark, and within moments, ice pelted our car with surprising intensity. It was the kind of storm that feels like nature itself is giving you a nudge, reminding you how unpredictable the journey can be.

After a long day of driving, we decided to break up the trip with an overnight stay in Indianapolis. The space we rented was charming, a cozy duplex in a historic neighborhood. As we settled in for the night, we noticed we were almost directly behind a railroad track where trains loudly whooshed by, comforted by a familiar sound. As we closed our eyes to sleep, Charles mentioned he could still “see” the road ahead of him, his mind still racing hours after we’ve stopped moving.