They Traveled Down the Road Together -- 9-19-21

They Traveled Down the Road Together

By: Carrie Keiser

In life, we meet many people as we travel many roads.  The choices we make send us down different routes with different people sometimes we trek together and other times we navigate along parallel paths for a while.  On the rare occasion, they cross and create something new.

This is a tale of two trails that intersected and then merged to make a road travelled together.

A young man set off on the highway of life, making exits here and entrances there, trying to find the direction he should go. At the same moment elsewhere along this life-way a young woman was also making departures and incoming lanes, searching for purpose and bearing.  Their tracks crossed and they spent some time heading in similar orientation. The young woman chose to serve along another byway for a time. The young man too chose service in another region. They each grew and developed on their own in their own way.  One day their trails crossed and lined up flowing in the same forward motion. They decided to join their paths and start to pave a new highway. They would travel the road together.

The road may have unexpected curves and places that are not as smooth as they would like. It is said that growth is found in the difficult places. They will have to get the excavator and the grader out to sift through the bumpy areas and the roller to smooth those places out.  This road they have chosen to travel together will take work to pave.  It will take, love, patience, understanding, compromise, a plan, faith and prayer.  But others before them have persevered and proven with work their trail can become a beautiful boulevard.

So hand in hand with invisible tools and hidden strengths, they travel down the road together. Stretching, growing, learning and paving the way for those who follow.

They Traveled Down the Road Together

19 September 2021 Flynn Family Story Slingers

by Cary Holmquist—

It had already been a long day that made both of them weary from all the work in the field, where they plowed up the stubborn old sod and then plowing over it all again to break up the soil clods smaller.  There would be more plowing tomorrow, both knew in their separate ways, to make the soil yet finer before planting the grain.  And perhaps they would plow some more sod to make at least a few more rows to sow and wait for a little larger harvest.

But this day’s hard toil was finished as only a little daylight remained.  The farmer wore a broad and tattered straw hat, not taking it off as he unhitched his faithful mule from the plow.  They left the plow standing there, where it could wait until tomorrow.  

The farmer kicked off some of the mud that was drying on his big boots, since it had rained the day before and the soil was moist.  But that rain had not helped the man or the mule in their labor.  Despite that moisture, both were thirsty and hungry,  as they began the slow walk to home and barn, table and trough, bed and straw pile.  

As they traveled down the road together, weary from all the work and sun, they somehow both knew this day’s toil would be worth their effort when it came time to harvest and store, so they would have food for their table and trough, straw for their bed ticking and stall padding.   Indeed, they were plodding along the mile or so down the rough road together to where piled the stores of last year’s plowing, planting, tending and harvesting.  Each year was much like the last year in this way, the steady cycle of reaping what they sowed.  

The farmer and his mule, step by step, retraced their track from the early morning when they had left the barnyard to reach the field across the stream and up and down the small rocky hill that separated the bigger field from the tree-lined pasture around the farm house and barn.  

The stream was getting higher from the melting winter snows further up stream, making their ford much more challenging.  Perhaps the waist-high wade would be a little welcome to cool their tired legs and then maybe the chill would give them an excuse afterwards to trot a little along the rest of the way, rather than this time-eating plodding.  

Even muddied water would be refreshing for both man and beast after a day in the sun.  They had taken a break after mid-day to plod down to the stream edge and slake their thirst in a small backwater pool that edged along short new grass on the retreating stream bank.  And then they went back at it.  

Tomorrow, the man planned to rig up some buckets to hang on the harnesses so they could haul water to the field and they could get drinks during the day.  He had forgotten that preparation today and their weariness showed some desperation for water as they walked along together down the road.  

But for today, the farmer’s thoughts were mostly about reaching the food and well water and his bed.  The mule’s thoughts, as such, were probably much the same, feed and water and stall.  And so as the sun went low toward the western horizon, they traveled along the road together. 

By: Colleen Holmquist 

The sun was low in the horizon as the elderly man picked up his satchel and reluctantly started walking. He had no idea where to go. He knew only that his time in this place was up.  His eyes caught on a pine cone and he kicked it. For awhile he followed the pine cone wherever it bounced until in the darkness it disappeared over the edge of the road. He looked up and around; he hadn’t noticed how the shadows had engulfed the remnants of the day.

He sat down under a tree and leaned against the trunk. The night chill sent a shiver through his body. He pulled a sweater out of his bag, wrapped himself in it and closed his eyes. A movie played on the insides of his eyelids and tears ran down his cheeks as he watched the wife of his youth swaying gracefully, beckoning to him.  Her voice haunted him with a sweet melody. He shook his head—she was gone.  How long had it been? 50 years! yet it seemed like just last month they had held each other’s hands and danced on the beach at midnight. 

He listened as she sang the strains of the old gospel song and longed to join her “in the sweet by and by.”

A smile spread across his weary face as he felt her warm touch on his forehead. He took her outstretched hand, kissed it and looking up towards the sky, they travelled down the road together.

By Aaron Leavitt

My mom always used to say “The trouble with parenting books, is that the kids don’t read them, so they don’t know their part”. Seems to me that a lot of life fits that description too. I have my plans, and reality steps in and shifts things in ways I didn’t expect. Didn’t it read the script I’d laid out?

Ryanne and I have been through our share of twists and turns together, like anyone our age. You ride some of them well, and some of them less well, barely hanging on at all. And somewhere off at the vanishing point on the horizon is the end goal. Lots of road behind us, pretty tired some days, ecstatic and uplifted some days. Some days I can summon immense patience, then a few days later I’m reduced to grouchy kid and “I can’t like that!”.

Even when I’m petulant though, it makes every difference in the world that somewhere close there’s a hand I can hold belonging to a beautiful girl that likes to walk along with me, down all the unexpected roads. So, as we walk along, some day people will look back and smile, and say “They travelled down the road together.” 

Story Slingers prompt, "They traveled down the road together

FATE

Daren Flynn

9/25/21

Some people called them the odd couple, and, maybe, rightly so. They, after all, were dissimilar in every way, or so everybody thought. They met by accident. They met literally, head-on, by accident on the highway. She was returning from vacation on the Oregon coast. He was on his way to a lecture by the geology professor at Central Washington University.

Their vehicles collided ob Interstate 90 just a few miles east of Ellensburg at a construction site. The eastbound traffic had been diverted to the inside lane of the westbound side, making a one mile stretch a two way road. Somewhere in the middle of that two way traffic, she drifted to the center and at the same time his vehicle found its way to the centerline as well. The resulting collision totaled both cars and landed both him and her in the emergency room. Both sustained injuries which required extended time in the hospital, which was, for some reason, over crowded resulting in the two of them being placed in the same room. 

Their shared room was divided by the typical hospital curtains which provided minimal privacy. They, of course, were able to overhear conversations from the opposite side of the dividers and therefore were aware of each others condition. Eventually they requested that the dividers be drawn open, except for times of needed privacy, so they could converse and see one another.

So it was that, the two accident victims began to learn something about each other. They found that they really had very little in common. Her interests and his were worlds apart, about 180 degrees. So their discussions all focused on the one thing they did share, the accident which brought them together. First off, they agreed that they were each to blame, but neither could explain how they happened to drive into the middle of the road. Neither felt they had fallen asleep and they were sure that they were not day dreaming. Some unknown force, it seemed to them, had drawn them to that precise point in the road at that precise point in time. They could think of no other explanation. It had to be fate, they reasoned. But if their meeting by accident was fate, why?

They both believed that everything happened for a reason and that being the case; what was the reason for their meeting? In discussing this question they agreed that they must have a joint destiny. Therefore they must stay close as they awaited their shared lot in life. 

After their release from the hospital they tied the knot and became Mr. and Mrs. and from that day forward THEY TRAVELED DOWN THE ROAD TOGETHER.

They Traveled Down The Road Together

by: Myrna Flynn

Patrick and Conan had an exceptional friendship. It started at birth. Their parents were strangers who moved next door to each other. Their mothers were both expecting their first child and were due to give birth near them same date. 

The boys were born in the same hospital, at nearly the same time, on December 7, 1976, (Pearl Harbor Day) As soon as they old enough to play together, they were almost inseparable. 

This closeness endured through entering school together, playing little League baseball, Little Guy wrestling, and every sport in high school. Both graduated with high honors and were awarded and were awarded full scholarships to the University of Montana, graduating with high honors.

While in college, they also, signed up with the Air Force ROTC and entered training to become fighter pilots. When the Iraqi Invasion started, they were among the first pilots sent to fight there.Both served in the Air Force for 25 years, the last 5 years as pilot and co-pilot of Air Force One. They switched off and on as who was pilot and who was co-pilot.

Their families were enjoying a Retirement BBQ in Patrick's backyard. After the meal was over, Conan and Patrick were sitting in lawn chairs watching their children and grandchildren play games while they were reminiscing about all that had happened over the 45 years of their friendship and discussing plans of how to spend the rest of their lives. They hope to continue down the road together.